


All Things Considered

by BadAshWolf



Category: Doctor Who, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Merlin (TV), The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Science Fiction & Fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2018-07-22 01:28:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 43
Words: 84,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7413112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadAshWolf/pseuds/BadAshWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The caged bird sings<br/>with a fearful trill<br/>of things unknown<br/>but longed for still<br/>and his tune is heard<br/>on the distant hill<br/>for the caged bird<br/>sings of freedom." Caged Bird</p><p>We begin on the arc, starting just before the pilot. We move through there and things go along the spine of the story. Different roads are taken, different changes early on that will lead our heroes (and villains) elsewhere than explored on the 100. Don't let the unusual relationship tags fool you, I promise everything that happens will enrich the story. Not graphic early on, depending on reception I would like to take it up a notch, especially with Clexa. Give me a chance! Story will end up being around 50k, no maybe 100k.</p><p>There will be magic, and cameos from other shows. Fear not, you won't miss anything by not watching but it will give you a heads up, kinda like reading the comics for a movie or tv show something is based on. Departs canon after that once gunshot scene... Though, it gets off track way before that</p><p>Obligatory I'm rubbish at this. I don't own anything beyond my narrative and the different takes I take on this world. Please don't sue me, I'm a broke nonprofit worker haha.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So many ways to introduce the world you're about to enter, but I dare not. Whenever I try to control my muse it goes a bit wonky and does what it wants anyway. 
> 
> In effort to blaze my own trail, I start us at an unusual point, with unusual changes in the timeline.
> 
> Undergoing self-edit. Story to be quite long indeed. Keep an eye out for easter eggs! Feel free to suggest more!

TOO LITTLE, TOO EARLY

All Things Considered, life on the arc was alright.

Everyone knew the reality, their generation was one of the middle generations. The earth below was scorched and unlivable for 100 years, and there was still a lifetime to go before it would be even possibly safe for their people to come down from their satellite refuge.. So, in an effort to push that idea out of mind to avoid countless breakdowns and a faultline morale, the leaders of their spaceship, the Council, insisted on long classes, filled with learned all matter of skills, and internships were freely offered. Education took up most of the their day. There was little else to keep one's mind occupied than try to fill it with knowledge, even if that knowledge was completely irrelevant.

 

The most interesting was also the most pointless... Earth Skills. Clarke rolled her eyes at the thought of it. Things to do to survive in a place she’d never go. While the teacher was unsettling at best, Clarke would remember his classes fondly. Sure, his melodrama on the skills being useful were pretty over the top. But Pike seemed moreso desperate. He was often seen in hushed conversations with pairs of council members at a time, seeking the ear of the Counciller and Chairman Marcus Kane most often. It wasn't the concern of the teenagers though, whose innate sense of spirit and rebellion couldn't be snuffed out by their monotonous reality.

The day-long classes were full of her friends, including Wells and Finn who she usually hung out with after class long into the night with anyway. Finn Collins was a well built teenage boy. He had brown hair that reached to just above his chin. His eyes were dark brown, blending into the color of his face. Wells Jaha had brown skin, dark eyes, and black hair with an athletic build. H looked much like his father, who was the Chancellor of the entire Arc.

 

Their entire generation had all grown up together, but a few of them seemed to gravitate towards each other on the Arc, always fiercely looking out for the well-being of those their age, for the most part. As there were lawful do-gooders such as Wells and Clarke, there were also those who toed a dangerous line. Also those who favored chaos over dull law.

This day would be a bit more chaotic than usual. 

 They had another friend, named Monty. Monty is a young male of Asian descent. He has an oval face shape that is framed by his straight, black hair, tan skin with a golden undertone, and deep brown eyes. He stands at a few inches under six feet and has a slim figure. Monty's biggest draw was his skills at mechanics, and he also used it as a hobby. Even monitored as closely as they are, though, he still managed a hearty distillery. Monty had broken out some of his liquor which he made himself somehow, from the distillery he had hid away somewhere…

So it was very logical that several hours into the evening cycle, a large gathering of a half dozen or so of their friends found themselves quietly and maybe a bit apprehensively waiting for the dubbed ‘sky princess’ to return as the last to show up.

And she did, of course. Clarke (neutral good) entered to find Finn (chaotic neutral), Monty (neutral good), Jasper (chaotic neutral), Wells (lawful good), and Raven (chaotic good) were immediately waiting. But that wasn’t all, Clarke noticed as she slid the door closed behind her.

Clarke was surprised to see even Bellamy (lawful neutral). Bellamy has thick dark brown hair and brown eyes. He has a light dusting of freckles (which seemed to be a bit bolder when he was young), along with olive skin. He has a lean, muscular build and appears to be physically strong.

He isn't seen smiling very often and usually has a frown on his face. When he does smile though it is very genuine and lights up his entire face, like now. Bellamy had two in tow, one wasn't hidden, Murphy (chaotic neutral)m and a person with him in full guard gear even the mask.

She walked up to the masked figure and laughed.

“Damn O, new profession?” Clarke teased, And she reached forward confidently to pulling off the mask to reveal a smiling teenager, pale with excited but anxious eyes. Octavia has olive skin, greenish-blueish eyes, and long dark brown hair. She has a toned build and is average height. She bears a similar appearance to her brother. Octavia (chaotic good) really shouldn't be here, but with the brainiac team that is Jasper and Monty, plus a bit of super insider intel from Wells, they figured out a pretty solid way to hide Octavia.

So maybe they got a little careless, but each of the group firmly believed that their death sentence via floating would be worth it, just to see the best friend Octavia here. Comfy and happy, not some girl under the floor but a friend and family to many, important, noticed. ‘The rest of the people be damned.’ Octavia would say and they agreed. They knew how much it hurt Octavia to be so damned by her existence.

Octavia didn't dwell on this though, because ‘this was a new adventure!’ She happily doffed her armor and guard jacket, reveal a common white tank leaving the guard pants. She even took down her hair and mussed it up a bit, then she grabbed a flask of monty brew and took a hearty chug.

Clarke smiled at Raven, who was staring at Finn and Wells with something bitter in her eye, which she was unsuccessfully hiding as the darker haired girl talked to Jasper. Clarke had a bad feeling for a moment, but was shaked out of it easily by Octavia.

“Let's watch some cool shit!” Octavia happily cried out. And Clarke and the rest took more as well. It was a night to remember, and one that many held on as nights like this became the rarest of them all.

 

Blu-Ray Extended Scene, scroll to play.

 

The night went on, and everyone drank Monty's flasks almost dry. Murphy found himself leaned up against the doorway, feigning listening out for guards. He wasn't scowling a much, so everyone took that to mean he was having an alright time. But really, he just felt awkward. Did he even have a place here. Everyone seemed so warm, like a family. He didn't have a family. He just had-

 

"Heey, evverything allright?" A low voice said into his ear, the strong smell of moonshine dampening the heat from arousal to fondness. Feeling the warm welcome heat next to him, Murphy closed his eyes and turned towards him. Bell always made him feel so helpless. He took the chance to lean in a nuzzle his nose against Bellamy's pulsepoint before leaning back, failing to hide the heated blush over his face. It was probably too much, Bellamy would be freaked ou-

 

A low, confident chuckle shuddered down his spine as the other boy leaned back to mimic Murphy stance back against the door. Murphy should have known better as he felt a hand brush up his back to sit for a moment at the base of his neck. Then in an instant, Murphy's head was pulled back as Bellamy grabbed the back of his just under his hairline. Realizing he was being scruffed, his eyes rolled back into his head as he whimpered once. It was all Murphy could do but desperately hold on to his fask. His eyes shuddered closes as he panted softly.

 

Bellamy darted his eyes around the room, noting everyone passed out or nearly and dared to lean over as if to tell a precious secret. Murphy strained to listen as Bellamy's mouth breathed in his ear. But Bellamy didn't speak, and took a moment to smirk before lowering his mouth a few inches to rest at the tense but sensitive muscles at the base of his neck before biting firmly, twisting his head slightly when he felt his pet tense and moan loudly despite their possible audience.

 

Bellamy opened his eyes and scanned the room. Finding the bathroom door askew and the room unoccupied, he smirked and walked off with a wink. At Murphy's helpless frustration, Bellamy offered a hint of a low, "see you soon.." as he walked into the bathroom, leaving the door ajar a few inches.

 

Murphy watched him go, dissapointed. He wondered for the first time what everyone would think of Bellamy's actions but it only took a moment to realise that no one was in a position to remark on what they did, or to watch where Bellamy went, or who else went after him...

 

"Ohhhh.." He said in realization. Not even pausing to breath, he lept into a sprint for the door on the other side of the room, jumping over a very occupied couch full of Finn, Wells, and Clarke before landing on one foot and darting into the bathroom door, closing it shut before the click of a lock could be heard.

 

THINGS UNKNOWN BUT LONGED FOR STILL

Breaking apart to giggle in unison, they decided to leave for somewhere more comfortable. Walking only a few rooms down the hallway, Wells gestured towards a room he knew was empty. The others didn't question it, merely followed him in to collapse on a large cot, the three of them in a puddle. The temperature was low so they started out close, it always got chilly during the night cycle, preserving energy.

After a great deal of homebrew booze though, the atmosphere was very gleeful, each huffing out random phrases or references, and flirtations just to hear and see the white cloud of air that came from lower temperatures.

The three laughed and poked each other, everyone finding a bit of space to curl up on. They talked of their day, their friends, and each other What they'd do if they were ever on the ground. After a few pokes and shoves they all found themselves cuddled up, hands roaming.

Clarke felt a forearm of both sides of her, and her hands curling into their strong biceps as someone made a clever remark. Wells found himself leaning over, curled over the two others. His right arm draped across Clarke and onto Finn, clearing hair off his face then just stroking his cheek softly over and over, resting his hand or toying with his ear. Finn’s left arm was thrown over Clarke, parallel to Well’s arms and he copied the same movement, just toying behind Well’s ear, gently scratching or just leaving his hand there. Their other hand still holding onto Clarke’s respective arm.

Each guy leaned in to kiss her cheek tonight, Clarke squirmed with happiness and maybe a bit of something more and she muttered, “Is it already time for good night kisses?” she glances to each guy with an eyebrow raised. They look at here, then to each other, in confusion the question. Clarke sighed in impatience and tries to push them, they were strong and she was imbalanced yet the two met in a sudden peak of lips over her that lingered. The motion caused their arms to retract over Clarke’s, specifically her mostly bare chest and shoulders she she shivered in the feeling. Taking that as a good sign they leaned back and kissed again, this time deeper and more desperately. Clarke squirmed underneath them, eager to keep this going. They seemed to remain aware of her, as if she was important, somehow Clarke shook the feeling off, it wasn't hers, it didn't make sense.

Clarke noted with a disappointment as the two slowed their kiss and pulled away, looking down at her with wide eyes. Clarke gaped with the sensation of two pairs of hands roaming her over.

Clarke moaned happily then slowly pulled away, leaning back further into the pillows and encouraging them together pulling their hands from her to rest on each other they immediately shifted attention with her blessing. Finn reached over Clarke and wrapped his arms fully around Well’s pulling him over Clarke to rest on his lap. Wells moaned and curled up into Finn, leaning into his neck and presumable doing a bit more if Finns moans were anything to go by.

Clarke’s hands trailed up and down her body, taking in the scene of contrasting skin against skin, desperately releasing something both were trying to suppress.

Clarke came before they did, but you could make an argument for quantity over quality.


	2. The Caged Bird Sings With A Fearful Trill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER TWO
> 
> (Author's note: Really facepalming over the amount of typos in that first chapter. I’ll try to work on that.
> 
> Got some really bad news at work today, boss casually mentioned I was being laid off in a week. Feels a bit like I'm being floated.. 
> 
> Anywho stay tuned for more nerd rants. Any suggestions are welcome! Betas Welcome ;) 
> 
> We continue on to finish up our stay on the arc, perhaps. Right now I have 24k of this story written, and I hope to make this one of the mega stories. To inspire you to stick around :)
> 
> Be excellent to each other.

Quite later in the night they all settled around each other, sated, in a cozy naked puddle. Clarke remarked that perhaps being discovered by someone in the morning because they all fell asleep, like the Chancellor looking for his son, would be a bit awkward. Wells and Finn seemed to agree, and were quick to start pulling on their clothes, trying to keep their giggles and butt grabs to a quiet minimum. Complete failure of course. The boys snuck out eventually, and somehow were not caught that time, or the next. Or the time after that.

Clarke didn't mind replaying those times in her head during the lonely night cycles to come. Playtimes were certainly some of the happiest, most carefree she’d had. Those days seemed long lost to Clarke,

All things considered life inside a spaceship had its perks.  
Life inside a cell?

Definitely shitty.

“His wings are clipped and  
his feet are tied  
so he opens his throat to sing.”

Clarke often found herself barely awake, or perhaps mostly asleep, drawing shapes into the dust covering her solitary cell. She hadn’t seen anyone in a very long time, food being shoved in in disposable containers that she later threw into a small garbage chute type thing when she was done eating. She always ended her day cycle by laying down on the ground and drawing into the dust. Different shapes, different things. She hadn’t seen anything outside of her cell in a very long time either, apart from her tiny window looking out to space and the earth, so many possibilities out there that she’d never get to see. Or she’s see for a few minutes as she slowly died in open space. There’s a silver lining.

She wondered often, musing that perhaps she was suffering from the same life systems failures her father had been floated for discovering and revealing. The same call to arms that forced her to rush to her father's defense, sealing her own fate along with his. Because of… someone. She wasn’t quite sure which exactly.

She’d grown up with no new sights, no new people, just a slowly changing viewpoint of the ground which she fantasized was much less shitty. Some people lost themselves in the reality that they had met everyone they were going to meet, and seen everything they would ever see.

Clarke mused that things could be worse. It had been ugly once, she read the stories, knew the past. Paranoia took root in her ancestors, and they all rose up against each other in the coldest war ever to be fought that burned the world and scorched the skies. Some escaped in the same steel humanity survived on. Some were saved, but apart from those on the arc, there were no survivors.

(AN: Four thousand and twenty two saved. No survivors.)

But they were safe. At least, that was the line the Council was selling people these days. The ignorant bliss of sustainable survival was just a lie. Her father found out, he felt everyone should know… it wouldn't last, they needed to roll the dice on the ground. She overhead musings from a teacher Pike that the younger generation was being trained. She supposed she was now one of the disregarded. She laid on her mattress on the floor, flexing her hands and eyes fixed on the tiny window to earth. She yearned for it to be truth, for something to come from all of this,

Sometimes she darted her eyes away as sleep overtook her. Sometimes she swore she heard a strong female voice mutter her name, disembodied usually but sometimes she saw a face in the darkness, with brilliant green eyes.

Somewhere far below Clarke, those same eyes rolled back in their owner's head. Two sets of delicate mouths roamed over her body. Females this time. The brunette groaned lowly, twisting it into a growl, always being sure to react as dominantly possible. When both girls bit and sucked at the same time her eyes slammed shut but her vision remained, she could make out a set of blue eyes masked slightly by bright blonde hair, but Lexa shook this off. Such a light hair was unusual, and certainly not present on her current bedpartners. As she focused back on the two women in her bed, the eye of fate turned back to the sky.

All things considered, life on the arc before wasn’t shitty at all.

Abby tried to reason with Clarke through her panic attack. “Clarke, you are not being executed. You’re being sent to the ground, you, your friends, one hundred of you.”  
Clarke finally began to hear her, but was reacting to this news with more panic and confusion  
“What? But it’s not safe. No. No.”  
Abby tried to calm her down with soothing noises and denial of this being the end.  
“The rules have changed.” The older Griffin said, “This gives you a chance to live. Your instincts will tell you to take care of everybody else first, just like your father. He was betrayed by our friend, never forget that. But be careful, I can’t lose you, too. I love you so much.”

 

Clarke tries to calm down and listen to logic, her eyes closed she only feels the slightest pinch on her neck before everything quiets to blackness.

Abby stands up, nodding to herself and mumbling. “Earth, Clarke. You get to go to Earth.”

“Sometimes you wake up. Sometimes the fall kills you. And sometimes, when you fall, you fly.”  
― Neil Gaiman.

–

Clarke felt the world shake her awake as she groaned. A voice she hadn't heard in ages sounded cautiously reassuring.

“Hey Clarke, fancy seeing you again.” Wells stared at her darkly, eyes filled with anger and bitter regret.  
Clarke glared back, a bit unsure and bit out “What are you doing here?”  
Wells looked at her, and then to Finn. “When I found out they were sending prisoners to the ground, I found out who and then got myself arrested. Regardless of the past or present, you both are my family now.  
Clarke stared at him, wondering how on the arc they got to where they are from where they were. Her mother's words came back to her, and she felt gripped by the same conflict. She never knew for sure who turned her father in. Abby said it was Wells, and Wells hadn't denied it outright, just begged her to trust him. But she couldn't choose him over her Mother. She couldn’t..

She was shaked out of her thoughts by a jarring in the craft.  
Clarke looks to Wells again,  
“What was what?”  
Wells says only “That was the atmosphere.”

Suddenly the screen she didn't even see before illuminates, and Well;s dad appears. Clarke stiffens, forgetting everything but the man who signed off on her father's execution, betrayer be damned.  
Wells merely stared ahead, resigned.  
Jaha on video screens begins a clearly rehearsed speech. “Prisoners of The Ark, hear me now. You’ve been given a second chance, and as your Chancellor, it is my hope that you see this as not just a chance for you, but a chance for all of us, indeed for mankind itself. We have no idea what is waiting for you down there. If the odds of survival were better, we would’ve sent others. Frankly, we’re sending you because your crimes have made you expendable.”  
Clarke sighs and says, “Your dad is a dick, Wells.”  
Jaha continues on, always ignoring them. “Those crimes will be forgiven, your records wiped clean. The drop site has been chosen carefully. Before the last war, Mount Weather was a military base built within a mountain. It was to be stocked with enough non-perishables to sustain three hundred people for up to two years.”  
various

And of course, Finn decided enough was enough and unbuckled his restraints. He drifted over, chuckling darkly, “Check it out. Your dad floated me, after all.”  
Wells stared at him frustrated and worried. “You should strap in before the parachutes deploy.”  
Clarke “Hey, you two lovebirds, stay put if you want to live.” She interjected, noting that Wells was getting that look in his eyes that FInn was silently encouraging chaos.  
The spacecraft began to shake and Clarke yelled over everyone beginning to panic. “Stay in your seats!” Over and over, she tried to convince them It was the only way they'd make it out of this.

Clarke is talking more to herself at this point, lost in calming down. ““Retrorockets ought to have fired by now… Okay. Everything on this ship is a hundred years old, right? Just give it a second.”  
Wells, frustratingly, interrupts her train of thought. “Clarke, I’m sorry with what happened with your father, and I don't know if it's too late too little, but I didn’t betray you. I promise.

Clarke stares, wishing this had been done sooner, or not at all. “Now? You do this now?”  
Wells says as quietly as he can while still being heard. “I can’t die knowing that you hate me.”  
“But Wells, you’re asking me to trust you, and if I… then that means my mother betrayed and had my father executed. I don’t… I can’t..”

And finally, their conversation is completely cut off as they land, or gently crash and everything is quiet. Thunderously quiet.

Monty whispers, not wanting to break the spell. “Listen. No machine hum.”  
Jasper nods next to him. “Whoa. That’s a first.”

It could be easily argued that the lives of the 100 didn't really start until they fell from space. While bitterness and characteristics formed in the sky shaped who they started out as, the specific memories from became unimportant very quickly for most of them.

Sure the relationships and loyalty were prevalent, but thoughts were thoughts, full of memories and experiences. And this was some memory.

(Hey I just met you, and this is crazy, but here's a chapter so review me maybe?)  
(Five reviews and I never say that agaaaaiiin)

Expect an update almost every day till I get to around 15k


	3. Caged Bird Freed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Authors Note: Bonus chapter today! Hope someone gets a bit of a woot out of this :)  
> Thanks to my beta Jack Daniels! *finger guns*
> 
> So you might notice that I don't really spell out how specifically or much time is progressing. I promise that while it might not be clear how much time is exactly passing, (especially when I skip around to different setting,) but know that it will be, at the least, entirely linear. Keep in mind the saying that clocks don't measure time, they measure other clocks, or whatever. These 100 aren’t focused on keeping count of the hours, or days; they are shocked, lost, and it's so chaotic. I don't really want to penny and dime this story, my fun is what goes on. I could go off on a nerdy Dungeons and Dragons rant, but I won't. Because I love your face. 
> 
> Also if no one's told you today: your hair looks great and whoa, nice butt.

The heavily secured computer room was mass chaos. An olive skinned man interjected into the rabble, “Total system failure, that’s what we’re looking at. All we know for sure is that they were off course when we lost contact, so…”

A tall man in his forties with wavy dark brown hair, brown eyes, and tan skin steps forward. He appears to have an authoritative presence. He looks directly at the man who’d just spoken. “Jackson, Tell me about communications.”

Jackson responds, “Kane, Sir, we got nothing… No audio, no video, no computer link. Everything that we programmed in to help them is gone. They’re on their own.”

 

 

Some tried to maintain order after the chaotic crash. Clarke tries to reason with them urgently. “Stop. We can’t just open the doors. The air could be toxic.”

Bellamy appears seemingly out of nowhere and in her silent shock states “If the air is toxic, we’re all dead, anyway.”

Octavia stares at him also in shock. “Bellamy?”

Bellamy has eyes only for his baby sister at this point. “My God, look how big you are.”  
Octavia looks at what he's wearing, so similar to what she would sometimes sneak around in. “What the hell are you wearing, a guard’s uniform?”

Bellamy barks out a laugh. “I borrowed it to get on the drop ship. Someone has got to keep an eye on you.”

Clarke looks him over, confused. "Why are you here Bellamy?"

Octavia tries to wave her off. “Do you mind? I haven’t seen my brother in a year.”

A little girl named Charlotte points accusingly, in that innocent but brutally cruel way only children can and declares. “That’s Octavia Blake, the girl they found hidden in the floor.” Octavia’s expression darkens, and Bellamy looks distraught.

Bellamy tries to bring her spirits back up. “Octavia, Octavia, no. Let’s give them something else to remember you by.”

Octavia looks at him in doubt but a bit of hope. “Yeah? Like what?”

Bellamy smiles in victory. Like he has a realization.“Like being the first person on the ground in a hundred years.”

Octavia inhales slowly then out, taking a few steps out of the drop shift on to the ground. She opens her mouth and bellows victoriously, "We’re back, bitches!”

  
And even Clarke let out a cheer.

So Octavia was out, and the ground touched her first. Her brother looked at her in a moment of relaxed contentment. For Bellamy, it was all worth it just to see Octavia so alive. The journey for her from under the floor to on the ground was worth any sacrifice for him, and finally the tight guilt of her being arrested for his mistake finally began to loosen.

 

 

 

 "And o'erthrew them with prophesying to the old of the new world's worth; For each age is a dream that is dying, Or one that is coming to birth.

-Arthur O'Shaughnessy

 

 

The fall was their beginning, not a new start but a first start for many of them, there was never hope for much past survival, and there was never much hope for that either. The fall would be remembered for its palatable terror, seeming to stretching into an infinitely long moment. Out of all the terror and uncertainty that followed, their strongest sensory memory is that fall. After that came the exhalation, the reality that today would finally be different than yesterday, that they haven’t see all the things they would ever see or done all the things they could ever do. They were high with an intoxicating adrenaline rush. There was no worst that could happen, there what only what could happen.

The adventurous kids pushed out, running and taking deep breaths of fresh air for the first time. The drop ship landed on the edge of some sort of forest (if that was the right word). On this border it was a mix of plains and sparse forest, with forest and mystery perhaps .

The tech minded kids tried to salvage some technology in the drop ship, but even Monty seemed defeated. Anything even close to communications was either fried or otherwise damaged. Nothing worked. It seemed like they were on their own down here.

Bellamy stared down at the ground, solid dirt and grass, his mind running. It was still early but things were going so well, already so much better than anything he's imagined. He looked next to him to Murphy and pulled him aside, both muttering quietly together for some time.

Murphy knew that Bellamy was getting bogged down with worrying for those around him. He had a bit of a skewed hero complex. Ends justified the means. But now, it was the means they had to focus on. As they stood, only a little away from the main group, Murphy lifted his hand to hold Bellamy's chin, forcing him to meet his eyes and focus.

"Let's just get everyone set up for now. Clearly this isn't temporary."

 

Bellamy nodded back at him, grateful once again for Murphy. "Yeah. We get an inventory going, some of the crash debris can serve as independent structures." Murphy nodded before going in for a tight hug. Bellamy relaxed into his arms before pulling away. Duty had given him a path, and he was itching to get results.

 

Murphy walked back to the group with him, splitting off to get the loners to help as well.

They were on their own down here, Clarke realized pretty quickly, but many weren’t too dismayed by this fact. This was just door number two, and in the moment much better than the alternative of being floated. They were free. Not everyone knew what she knew though, not everyone knew that this was their people’s only chance. She was too caught up in trying to herd the reckless kids to go on about mission statements and the greater good. Right now they needed some order. She was fortunate to be so close to the other leadership-oriented members of the group.

Bellamy interjected early on that they needed a first order of business, delving into his lawfulness. Clarke meanwhile reassured people, tried to conceptualize a plan to follow, a future to keep in mind. There was more than just surviving the now, the dawn will rise, it had to.

They had no order, and this itched at Bellamy. So he made sure everyone stayed close and aware that there was a plan, and everyone needed to remain calm and focus on realizing and proving their personal strengths, skills, or talents to be used.

Wells though, remained pretty quiet. He knew that being anything close to the part of a vocal chancellor would infuriate the others. So he stayed a step behind, only muttering advice in private, or singling a break if he had something vital to add. He had important insight, but everyone relevant made an effort to be subtle when asking his advice, usually just a raised eyebrow waiting for a slight nod or shake of the head.

 

The biggest secret on the ground was, obviously, that there was no plan. Luckily backstories and rumors were easily fudged. The 100 were vaguely debriefed and whatever groups the rest of the 100 formed around and in the drop ship, our heroes would periodically infiltrate, just to sprinkle confidence, a plan, or trust in a budding leadership council of sorts. They downplayed the details through aloofness, it was going so predictable they tried to press that this was supposed to happen, and as long as everyone did their part, it would work. They would survive, they would win. Clarke and Bellamy pushed the idea of a secret coup, that there was a council member on their side that got them the resources needed to make sure things would be different.

It was only mentioned once, between Clarke and the others. Even before being sent to earth, Clarke and her friends were a tight alliance, bound by friendship and Octavia's plight. They'd come to rely on each other and literally trust their lives in each others hands. This was their shot. Monty mentioned this when Bellamy was dozing off that first night.

"We should run it. We decide our fates.: He said. And finally Wells interjected.

"Monty and I-"*rudely nudged* -and Jasper, came up with the idea that the coup should have some puppetmaster. It would be easier for us to feign being lieutenants than generals, or a new Counselor." Wells said dryly. Things were going pretty smoothly so far. The awe of the ground was distracting the people from the details temporarily, but these people were suspicious, used to being duped and betrayed. They needed an actual plan.

Monty interjects. "But we need a plan, for who that council member might be. If we get a chance, who could be our ally?"

Wells looked to Clarke in question, not pushing, not giving an ultimatum, just waiting. He was giving her the choice, Clarke realized, and looked back to him, remembered their lives together and carefully shook her head, coming to a decision. She kept staring at him, a warm glow coming into her eyes as Wells softened his defensive expression. Her eyes darkened again as she spoke lowly, though it became apparent who she was wrathful towards.

“My mother is not an ally to us, our people. Abby Griffin is not to be trusted. She murdered her husband and my father, and only has her best interests at heart. Not even her own daughter is safe from betrayal. Remember how we were easily betrayed when we were separate, we must keep together in fierce loyalty, only then could we survive, and maybe more. Regardless, We keep this an unknown for now. Pretend you only know parts of the plan. ”

Everyone set out to complete their duties, or rather find their place and realize their new duties. Bellamy continues to recruit for his perceived first order of business, They had shelter in the drop ship. As he listened to the quiet he thought he might hear water nearby, and that would be most important. He grabbed a couple delinquents from the farm division, saying “you, guys are on the lookout for food that won't kill us.” And grabbed a few of the more brawn over brain types, and Murphy, of course, and set out. He barked at Octavia to tell the others where they were going, or rather to confirm as he had brought up the idea to Clarke and Wells earlier in the afternoon. Octavia looked stubbornly annoyed at being ordered around and stomped off to just do it. Clarke only nodded, dismissively as she appeared to have some sort of headache.

Everything was just happening too quickly, it was too stressful.Octavia soon grew weary of her brothers arrogance and apathy. She thought he was hiding something and she finally just walked away into the woods to clear her mind. Stomping about with little awareness of the possible dangers, she misstepped and fell down. And kept falling, she realized, as she knocked into saplings, rocks, and stones down some sort of hillside. Her vision exploded in a white light of pain before Everything went dark.

Octavia awakens to find herself injured and alone in a cave. She stared wide eyed in shock, her instincts to remain quiet when but terror started to kick in. Her brain felt surprise it never felt. She saw two people that she did not know enter the cavern. She knew everyone. Everyone knew everyone. Especially now that there were only 100 of them.

But somehow someone entered and approached her, and Octavia finally noticed that one was carrying a heated blade. She’d never seen a weapon like that before. Octavia tried to back away, only putting weight on a a very painful and bleeding hurt leg.

Her yell of shocked pain heralds the man to act. He steps into her space and she yells as he pins her down and looks back to the other, Octavia didn't even notice her at first, and that mysterious girl nods once. Octavia is quickly distracted from any musing as the agony of a burning she'd never felt before burst into her leg. As he cauterizes her leg wound, she succumbed quickly, pass out again.


	4. Name the Sky Your Own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AN: I hope the day is finding everyone well. We continue on with our heroes, still at the heart of our journey.
> 
> “A spider's life can't help being something of a mess, with all this trapping and eating flies. By helping you, perhaps I was trying to lift up my life a trifle. Heaven knows anyone's life can stand a little of that.”  
> ― E.B. White, Charlotte's Web
> 
>  
> 
> Review please? I dont have any yet. Im 30k so far into this series! *lexa puppy eyes*

She groaned, the pain in her leg finally dragging her back to consciousness, the additional aches of sleeping chained to a dirt floor even more so. Octavia pulled herself to a sitting position as her eyes opened, She fuzzily wondered, waking in a strange place that was slowly looking more and more familiar. Her leg looked pretty rough still, but cauterized . She realizes the man had fixed her knee and begam to look around the cave, trying to find a way out. 

“Should I try to escape from...here?” She asked herself, interrupted from her musing by footsteps. Octavia pulled herself to her feet, leaning against the wall for support succeeding just as two entered the room.

Looking to the girl who seemed her own age, Octavia had no sense of recognition, but she definitely got a vibe of something. The other person, a strange dark skinned man with wide eyes and a strong muscled figure kept glancing back to her for approval or permission, Octavia wasn't sure, but there was an undeniable air of respect. 

“What is your name?” The other girl commanded, the first time either one addressed her.

Octavia stared at her, really just expecting whistles and clicks or something. “What...O-, I’m.. Octavia.” She replied with, surprise but naively hopeful. Octavia’s awe was slowly replaced by confused alarm as the woman continued speaking.

“Oktavia, Your people did not announce or plead for permission to enter my lands. This could be seen as an act of war. Is it?”

Octavia looked to the man, who stared ahead at her in an analyzing way, and looked back to the girl confused. The girl waited a beat in silence as at least one brain cell in Octavia’s head fired off the right zing and she shook her head in denial.

The questions continued, even though Octavia didn’t even know how to go about responding yet. 

“Why are you here then? What is your tribe? Where...where did you come from?” 

Octavia’s eyes just widened more.

“From what land?” The other woman pushed.

FInally, Octavia slowly pointed upwards to the ceiling. She muttered quietly, “Not land, so much…” 

(shifting POV a bit here, it's not an omniscient story)

“From the north? You are Ice nation??” Lexa spat, now ready for war, drawing her sword and holding it in front of her, level to this Oktavia’s throat. Lexa felt Lincoln growl behind her and knew he was drawing a weapon and scanning behind them, for a moment back to back scanning for threats.

When no ambush dramatically surrounded them, Lexa observed her very closely for any excuse for revenge. Lincoln would back up whatever story. She would not suffer Ice Nation Tribe in private.

This girl though, did not seem like any warrior. In fact the girl, who was barely coherent before, now seemed about to faint. She mused.

FInally Oktavia found her voice. “What? Ice… people of Ice?? Wha? No lady sir, Ma’am, I and mine are from up, uuuup. LIke the sky. Totally not worth stabbing me over! Promise!”

Lexa took a moment and quietly conferred with the Lincoln, through the slightest of facial gestures and hand waves. he seemed cautious, but thought she seemed to mean no harm. Lexa didn't consider him objective, he seemed affected by her. Something crashed to the ground recently, her scouts were still trying to get more information. Lexa felt the spirit's drive her to scout alongside. Her advisors weren’t pleased. 

Lexa came to a decision to play this one out, but it felt a bit out of character for her. and she stepped back.

“Octavia com..skykru. I am Heda. Leader of these lands.” At this Lexa looked down, full arrogant Commander mask in play. And continued.

“This is Lincon com Trekru, a gifted healer and trusted friend, if I said such things.” She said with the hint of a smile, a clearer smirk of pride flashed over Lincoln's face as he looked at Octavia.

Lexa looked back to Oktavia, she could see the flicker of a spirit that had potential, but needs to be corrected and steered. “While you may be strangers to the lands, We are not. These lands have been chaotic many years, war and subterfuge were ways of live. Recently I have been able to secure peace and happiness for my people. This will continue as long as possible. I will permit a truce between our people to hold of bloodshed until myself and my army can be sure of anything.. Who is your leader?”

(back to O)  
Octavia stared back, her mind rushing to think of an answer. Though, at the mention of the assholes who damned her... “Our leaders sent us down here to die.” She barked,, raising her head in defiant pride. Straightening her back and standing as tall as she could while still being bound. Heda Lexa and Lincoln were intrigued at this baring of teeth, but took their own meaning. Lincoln felt a bit deeper. Lexa caught her words more closely and was instantly suspicious.

“You were banished? Are you criminals in exile?” The girl, Lexa accused.

“No!” Octavia returned immediately, “Just kids, my crime was being born.”

It was a denial, but it also wasn’t. At this the two grounders think of their own people taking their young out to the forest to be left. This girl, Oktavia com Skykru, did not seem affected in any obvious way. But still, Lexa was unsure how to proceed. Taking in exiles is forbidden, it could lead to war. 

Lexa looked again to Lincoln, and she saw realization in his eyes, but also conflict. She knew his moral compass, and he wore his heart on his sleeve. Together they were good judges of character. She nodded at him though, and turned again to Oktavia, stepping forward well into grappling distance. Lexa was confident that she could take Oktavia down in hand to hand combat if she did turn against her. But Lexa found herself putting belief in the spirits watching out for her.

Heda Lexa looked back to Oktavia once more, a look of determination and a bit of apprehension. “Oktavia we approach a turning point, how you and your people choose to act in the coming days will shape our paths for a long time to come.”

“You must not tell anyone we helped you Oktavia com Skykru. We shouldn’t have helped or interfered, but I hope that your status as children merits a bit of compassion. Especially if you select new, understanding and capable leaders. We have healed you.” 

Lexa nodded to Lincoln and he stepped forward, cutting away the last of her bonds. “You are no prisoner of the Trekru. Lincoln will help you back to your people and ensure your safety. You two can discuss it from there,” She said with a smirk to Lincoln, and Octavia wondered what they had discussed when they left her room.

Octavia looked to them both, knowing a true diplomat would be neutral and vague, keeping options open and not showing cards. But she wasn't that. She never felt at home, but here was different. She new these people were suspicious of her own “people” and Octavia was quick to downplay those still on the arc.

As the Heda walked out of the room, Octavia raised her voice slightly and called out. “Thank you for your kindness and care. I won't forget this. My people have their faults, but we just want the chance to live. We have new leaders I think, a council. Clarke pretty much runs us.” 

The Heda stilled at the name, but that was the only give away that showed she heard Ocktavia. The sound of a norse neighing and hooves was the only sign that she had truly left them.

Lincoln did not comment on it and merely helped her gather herself for the trip back to her people.

Octavia and Lincoln set out shortly after, Lincoln guided her on a roundabout way. In truth they were a quarter day's walk, but Lincoln tripled it, just in case.

Octavia didn’t notice, obviously. She was too caught up in this impossibility within an insanely unlikely situation. In her excitement she spoke fast, changing topics and discussing her people in perhaps more detail than necessary. It was fortunate for her that Lincoln didn’t mean harm, and didn’t understand the concepts for a lot of the juicy details she went into. He did not know which details were important past her tribe and their village, but even then the words she used were confusing.

As Octavia began describing ‘Skykru’ to Lincoln, she stressed that she wanted Heda to hear this as well, on their journey back to her people. She felt a sense of companionship and intrigue about another person and culture she had never felt before, these people seemed realer than her own culture in some ways. She spoke of life on the arc in a detached way, as if she was an outsider. She didn’t go into detail about her specific life, not wanting to appear as if she deserved to be imprisoned again. 

Though, there weren't really different cultures on the Arc. Just stories in books she never really had access to anyway. She talked most about her brother, his deliberate crime to get sent with her and of Clarke and their friends. She mused that the group of them were the most organized of the lot on the ground, and in ways they were the new leaders. 

Lexa and a guard who remained unseen outside the entrance quietly followed the pair, eager for a first unguarded observation of these strange people from the sky. Lexa felt a sense of familiarity as she heard Octavia describe Clarke further, as if each description she nodded as if she new it already which was, of course, impossible.

The walk back was slow but comfortable, Lincoln mentioned not being too far away and he stopped them to set up a fire midday as the air grew chily. He encouraged her to take a short rest while he stood guard. As she sat down propped up against a tree, Lincoln walked to the same tree and stared at the spot next to her. Octavia was just grateful to take the weight off her 

This Octavia understood, and she nodded once and as he sat down He offered her more medicine to help healing. her eyes began to relax and close. Her side felt warmer and he began to subtly lean on her.

Much later that day, after she woke up. They walked the short trip back to her home. As Lincoln left her a few minutes walk away from the drop ship as Bellamy's calls for her grew louder, Octavia began to hobble in. First Bell cornered her with questions, then the rest of their group, and halfway through her story for the fifth time she just asked Clarke to gather everyone outside. 

She spoke of there being people out there, that this was someone's land. And here she got a bit fuzzy, talking as if there were two groups she encountered. One mysterious duo who saved her and spoke of warnings to protect them, and another group who owned this land and were suspicious. Right now they were safe-ish. 

While she knew Heda had it wrong about being exiled, she knew not to underestimate the viciousness of the people who did send them out to die. If they came, there could be trouble.

She didn't go into details on what she said on her end. She didn't even remember saying much, she was too excited or in waves of hurt from her healing leg. 

Being back was cause for a celebration, Octavia quickly learned that she had been gone almost two whole days. The night was full of Octavia retelling her story, and others passing it along, making the tales of the people she met grow and become legends.

Clarke listened to each retelling early in the night as she stared into the fire and drank slowly, She kept tilting her head confused, as if getting some sort of deja vu but in the wrong order. There was something about the girl known as Heda.  
Something

She was mulling it over while getting pretty comfortable with one of the brunette female members of the 100. This girl had brown eyes, but whenever Clarke found herself lost in strange thoughts, she could have sworn the eyes were green.

Not that she could see them now, as the girl was not at all subtly kissing up her ear as they sat in a close huddle. Clarke was still on edge, they had been searching for Octavia at all hours, stopping only to crash and eat. Even now, after Octavia came home knew she wouldn't be able to relax, so she just sat there pretending to focus on the fire. Yawning at appropriate intervals to show that she appreciated the gesture but wouldn't be able to reciprocate.

 

“The night seemed long. Wilbur's stomach was empty and his mind was full. And when your stomach is empty and your mind is full, it's always hard to sleep.”  
― E.B. White, Charlotte's Web

TRIAL OF THE RENEGADE

AN: tag approaching. 

Bellamy sat by the fire lost in his thoughts but was finally distracted from his observation of the only other person at the fire still awake. Murphy shuffled out of the shadows over to where Bell sat alone on on a log just at the edges of the fire's warmth and light. As Murphy walked to Bellamy's side he gestured to the empty spot next to him “Well? Mind?”

Bellamy snorted, something about the tone in Murphy's voice got to him. “What if i said to sit at my feet?” He growled, staring at Murphy and the the tone darkening along with his gaze Murphy just started back, holding his attention, a question but a dare in his eyes. 

“Now.” Bellamy growled.

Murphy seemed to shudder a bit as he almost unwillingly nodded and settled on the ground just ahead of him. Murphy inched back to brush his back up against Bellamy's legs, as if in question. Bell mostly ignored him. His thoughts focused back on the little girl sitting on the other side of the fire. A terribly concealed look of anguish and anxiety. She just sat farther out than he did, his own thoughts trying to decide something.

Bellamy relaxed somewhat when it seemed that the girl curled up on her blanket and fell asleep.. His legs spread as he shifted, surprising Murphy who settled back against Bellamy who barely reacted. Murphy just stared ahead, unsure of what was happening but his heart pounded in his ears. He felt Bellamy's hand against the back of his neck, slowly absentmindedly scratching it. Petting him. Both reached for their own drink at the same time and took a deep mouthful, and continued until the bottlers were empty.

Author's Note: I think the idea of Bemley having a harem works. He just seems the time to appreciate that closeness as another form of loyalty. 

*later that night*

It was getting late and Monty had left to go find somewhere to sleep, or wait.

As Bellamy watched everyone, and was surprised that maybe not everyone was completely passed out. Nevertheless he felt no shame and got up, about to follow but stilled by a quiet young voice.  
“What if monsters come?”

Bellamy stopped mid track, expecting something a bit more accusing. A kid with a nightmare? THat was easy… “If monsters come, we will protect you little one.” He said, approaching the young girl.

Charlotte stubbornly muttered “I’m not little.” and stood up to her feet.

Bellamy looked at her, amused “Okay, then…Fears are fears. Slay your demons when you’re awake, they won’t be there to get you when you sleep.If monsters come, you’ll defend us and we will all protect each other.”

Bellamy looked at her for a moment, and then seemed distracted by a low whistle inside the drop ship. He grinned and patted her distracidlty on her left shoulder before shuffling off. Not stopping to check his pockets for all of his things, and definitely not looking back towards Charlotte, or Charlotte eyeing the glint of a knife forgotten by the log he was sitting at minutes before.


	5. Probably just homesick. I guess we all are.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We are in this fairyland on sufferance; it is not for us to quarrel with the conditions under which we enjoy this wild vision of the world.”  
> ― G.K. Chesterton, All Things Considered
> 
> Octavia was back, things are good. It had only been a few days on the ground so far. The 100 are relaxing at the fire as the night winds down.

Finn watched on, concerned. He was a short distance away, mostly covered from sight in the dark light. The fire’s warmth didn’t reach as far as they were from it, and he preferred it that way. Cold helped him calm. Bad things happened when his thoughts turned feverish.

Wells was laying down next to him under a lean-to utilize from crash site junk. It was a close, guard like post to the drop ship, and usually one of the closer friends was camped out. Tonight Finn and Wells nabbed it first, Finn drank some and fell asleep early. He was in one of the groups that had been looking for Octavia early in the morning, and the worry in the camp meant a tense adrenalin rush that continued in a sprinting merriment. He was asleep before most. Wells stayed awake for a bit, watching over him, then laid down next to him.

Now though, Finn was the one awake and back to being on high alert. The way that Charlotte glanced back at where they were apparently not to sheltered, specifically at Wells throughout her weird conversation with Bellamy just unsettled him. He is protective of Wells and Clarke, more aloof about the rest of them, paranoid of his new family being hurt. After Bellamy basically ran off into the dropship, Charlotte walked over to where Bellamy and Murphy were and laid down in the same spot.

Finn might be shit at some things, keeping calm and contained top of the list. But he was observant enough to get a bad feeling. Finn got up in a guise of finding somewhere else to sleep and walked off, doubling around and hiding behind some shrubbery, watching Charlotte for a bit from the cover of the forest around them. Because Finn had fallen asleep early, he was content to sit and watch, hoping it was just temporary paranoia. Just had to get it out o his system.

An hour or two later Finn saw Wells stir and get up, probably just looking for a tree, but startled at Charlotte getting up immediately and silently stalking after Wells.As she followed him slowly, Finn saw the glint of silver and his paranoia and desperation flooded his senses, He waited only a few seconds before getting up to follow, dread filling him up.

Wells heard a twig break behind him and he spun around, heart hammering in his chest. Charlotte looks up at him and tilts her head, thinking. After a long pause she greets him, “hi.”

Wells just looks at her. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Charlotte shakes head, looking down. “I never can. You?”

Wells didn't want to get into the awkward conversation of needing a leak so he nodded in the affirmative, luckily the need wasn't too urgent and Charlotte seemed troubled so he settled down on a log overlooking the surrounding trees, as if he intended to all along.

Wells beckoned her. “Join me,” and patted the empty space next to him in invitation for her. She just walked up to his back and stayed there.

Charlotte stares at the ground, eyes darting to Wells every few beats.“I had a nightmare.”  
Wells just hums supportively letting the girl stand and talk freely.

Charlotte continued on, not waiting for a response, “I… I have them every night. But… I think I found a way-” And she was shut off in a surprised scared yell.

Wells looked over, confused at her tone but mostly alerted by Finn bursting into the clearing, his eyes only on Charlotte as he lunged to grab her.

Wells stood and yelled, thinking Finn had finally lost it, attacking a girl. Then he noticed that Charlotte was much closer to him that he thought, and her right hand was inches away from his neck with a knife! He fell backwards into the dirt in shock, screaming in alarm.

She was half turned to fend Finn off as he closed the distance and tackled her into the dirt just beside the log Wells had been on. Her arms coming up to fend him off but he was several times over her weight so she crumpled underneath him roughly into the ground. As they landed they both froze. A few short heartbeats later, Finn scrambled up quickly, staring down covered in blood holding a hand to his chest and dropped back down to the ground as if his strings had been cut.

He leaned over the girl, grabbing her shoulders and looking at the wound, then back to her face. “Charlotte?”

Charlotte gurgled blood, her hands weakly clawing at knife lodged solidly in the right side of her chest as she hatefully stared at Wells over the log he was peering over.

Finn was horrified at her expression and weakly got to his knees, reaching over the log to Wells whose own hands were hands roaming over Finn's chest and then pulling him to his side of the log and standing up. Finn grabbed Wells’s face, “Did you see the knife? she was going to kill you! I just, It just happened!” Finn rambled, seeking absolvement.

They stood there, listening to CHarlotte gasp and then still her wide eyes looking at the flowers that grew along the trees.

The silence that followed was quickly blasted away like a tangible sound wave. The screams and questions started within moments, as people from the camp in various stages of consciousness and sobriety ran over, tripping in their haste over the uneven ground and hazards.

Clarke wasn't the first one on scene, she was clamouring to her feet and fastening the buttons on her shirt, missing a few. She mussed up her hair into a messy bun as she ran towards the sound of the yelling, leaving the other girl confused and in shock at the erupting chaos around them.

She ran to the two, who were wrapped up in each other's arms and totally useless at this point, just cooing at each other. She looked down to the side of them, Charlotte was laying there, still and covered in a lot of blood.

She looked at Wells and pulled him away from Finn, who desperately clawed at the other boy for contact. Wells snapped out of his shock first and looked to Clarke as she questioned the more logical of the two.

“The fuck happened Wells??”

“Charlotte tried to kills Wells!” Finn answered,and Clarke looked back with apprehension, taking him in. Finn’s eyes wild and panicked, seeing threats in every shadow. He looked mostly at the dead child, but also jerked his attention randomly around the scenery, as if he saw more danger.

Clarke looked to Wells, the fearful question of Finn’s role in this.

Wells shook his head back, “THe girl had a knife, she would have stabbed me if Finn didn’t tackle her. In the fall she got stabbed, he didn't plan this.” Wells said hurriedly, amped up in adrenalin.

Clarke was in shock, but it would do for now. ”Get some goddamn law and order here guys. Get the body covered. I’ll get Bellamy, you get the others. Get everyone else people out of here, get them inside or in shelter at the other end where they can't see this.”

THey nodded and immediately went off to rally the sensible in the moonlight lighting up the scene, mercifully Charlotte was in a bit of shade, the gore not highlighted. Clarke spun on a heel and went off in search of Bellamy.

Clarke approached one of the bigger storage closets in the drop ship, knowing she had to try to find Bellamy. He should know.

She grabbed the handle and turned her wrist but was stopped by the sounds of grunting.

“Please...hurts..” A male voice that was not Bellamy moaned, raspy but a bit whiny to Clarke's ears. She dropped her hand and started to back away, he certainly wasn’t in there-.

“Shut the fuck up unless you’re saying stop.” Bellamy's voice growled out in warning. Clarke stilled again, fascinated. She looked up and down the hall and told herself that she would turn and walk away, very soon.

A whiny groan responded, accompanied by a stronger growl of approval and the sounds of slaps and struggling continued. Clarke wasn't convinced some terrible crime wasn't unfolding in that room, but the other person made many noises, was allowed to speak.The sounds of struggles and growling turned into moans and grunts in pleasure, almost an octave apart in the dual voices. The whinier voice was much more vocal, pleading turned to begging. Clarke noted that Bellamy might have more sides to him then she'd really thought too hard about.

Clarke was no stranger to safewords, and seriously Bellamy having some sort of sex pet made her respect the guy in a weird way. With a not at all subtle finger guns motion at the closed door, she backed away and went outside to the others. She immediately ran into those already assembled: Wells, Finn, Monty, Jasper, and, Clarke noted wryly, Bellamy's sister, Octavia.

Yeah, no way was Clarke getting into details.

Clarke looked to the tan brunette and cut her off before she even asked.

“Bellamy was passed out exhausted. Saw him patrolling all day and night for you, we can handle this for now. We get to the bottom of this, have a plan, and the bring in Bellamy. He can lead the inevitable second shift of dealing with this situation. Speaking of,” Clarke sighed after she waved her arms around, turning her attention back to the others, unbuttoning her white overshirt she’d messily and hurriedly buttoned up, taking it off. She had a thinner mechanic type tank underneath it and she folded her arms, raising her eyebrows and leveled a stare at Finn and continued, “what the floating fuck happened?” And both boys reiterated the same story as Wells told before. Self defense, a mad child.

An hour or so later, Clarke returned down the hallway that led to where she found Bellamy before, sort of. She turned the corner of the hallway to see him looking around as he stepped out of the closet alone. He stopped as a deer in headlights while almost slamming the door closed behind him.

“Clarke.” he said firmly and loudly, louder than necessary surely.

“Good, you’re up.” CLarke couldn’t help to say with a smirk. It had been a long day, and longer night. Right, you owe me for this.. She mused waving a hand away, and then beckoning him closer.

He relaxed and even let out a sly grin and she nodded but settled on a grim expression. “We have an actual problem, and unfortunately, it's a bad one. Follow me. It’s Charlotte, something happened.”

The next hour found Bellamy, Finn, and Octavia digging a smaller grave a short walk behind the drop ship. It was a nice, natural meadow. It was a good place. Clarke and her other friends were supportively standing by, observing.

Only the few of them were there, no one really knew Charlotte that well. While she was a young child, she seemed very closed off and troubled. Only Bellamy really talked to her much, but he admitted along with the others that they did fail the little girl.

Wells, Clarke, and to a lesser degree, Jasper and Monty, looked to Finn when he wasn't looking back. There was a chaotic, desperate, darkness in him. They resolved to keep a closer eye on the most lost of them.

Later, just past dawn, the group was speaking to the last of the confused about the death the night before. People died often and frivolously on the arc, but they needed to be reassured that this wasn't continuing that norm. She wasn’t killed for acts of aggression, it was merely in self defense.

FInally Clarke found herself able to lie down and get some rest after being awake almost a day and a half straight. She took a hearty chug from Monty's moonshine to help soothe her thoughts. Sure tomorrow the ghosts and hauntings would return, but now she felt she'd been granted a night of reprieve.

 

 

Next Time on "All Things Considered"

 

**"Fetch us whens its done” Te larger man barked to the smaller girl, Clarke couldn't take her eyes off her. The girl was submitting to the orders but there was just something. Clarke couldn't figure it out but it was like a scent on her tongue, she couldn't look away. Wells was shackled next to her oblivious to any of this.**

 

**“They want us to turn on each other.” Wells said, looking at the gun on the floor.**

 

**“They want justice” The meek girl spoke quietly, wide eyes downcast to the floor.**

 

**Clarke brushed her off. “For what? No one has told us why were are in a cell!” Clarke rose flexing her tired muscles. “Is this for amusement? Making us hurt each other? They need to end this!”**

 

**Wells stood up, and walked  forward, her chains rattling bus the cold breeze seemed to settle her nerves.**

 

**“What's your name?”Wells asked kindly, the girl looked only to the blonde and muttered “Leksa com Trekru”**

 

**Wells repeated her and introduced himself. “Im Wells, this is Clarke”**

  
**Lexa mouthed the name along Wells, starring the girl somehow knowing things she couldn't.**


	6. INTERLUDE/EXCUSES

So, no update tonight because of this  
http://i.imgur.com/FqPVhaC.jpg?1  
Spent my post DND free time trying to capture a kitten that was roaming too close to the street, called the number on its tag, and waited an hour for the owner to pick up.

So direct your complaints to this kitten.  
Update tmw.  
<3 Be kind, always.


	7. Summer is Changing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if the arc was so arrogant that they thought the radios, computers, and other help couldn't possibly fail? Maybe they thought the plan “unsinkable”,so maybe someone did not conceptualize wristbands that monitored the fallen 100. The Butterfly Effect comes into play often, and I hope cleverly here in this story. Not the movie, though feel free to comment an ashton kutcher character in the comment section and maybe I’ll use your idea in a future episode! <3
> 
> Buckle up. This chapter is a ‘please keep your arms and legs inside the ride at all times. Do not buckle or attempt to leave the ride before it is complete and you are returned to the station.’ *car starts chugging up a bit hill* Yzma, put your hands up!
> 
> First draft, might want to reread before the next chapter, I gotta fix some errors.

“The crickets felt it was their duty to warn everybody that summertime cannot last forever. Even on the most beautiful days in the whole year - the days when summer is changing into autumn - the crickets spread the rumour of sadness and change.”   
― E.B. White, Charlotte's Web

 

The morning brought a tense air to the camp. Many in the camp, regardless of how well they’d known Charlotte, found themselves standing near her grave reflecting. The death shook everyone out of the idealistic vacation feel of the ground. Their safety and survival was in question once more. Everyone wanted to know they were safe where they lived and slept. And between Wells and Bellany, plans and schedules were set. They were working on a fence perimeter. Mostly spikes for show at this point, but the kids felt safe with any semblance of a secure border.

There were also small scouting parties. They knew, to lesser degrees, that somehow there were others living on the ground. They didn't understand it but heeded Octavia’s message of treading carefully and peacefully. Clarke and the other core 100 knew they were playing on someone else's chessboard, and each move could mean failure and chaos down the line, but the inner circle was trouble with the fact that they didn’t know the first thing about how to play.

Octavia always volunteered to join the scouting group, saying that she saw more than they had out there when she been out there on her own. Most nodded, but Bellamy was stubborn. FInally Octavia stood in front of him, arms crossed and said implied that she would go with or without his blessing, she did add though, “if let me tag along with you , then you’d know where I am at least. And maybe I can protect you!”

Bellamy scoffed but furrowed his eyebrows, defeat shimmering in his eyes. “Dammit Octavia.” He muttered, nodding his head once after . “We go for a few hours at a time, nothing overnight or past dark until we know more. Don't get cornered, don’t get followed.” 

Octavia couldn't reacting with the Blake grin of victory and nodded firmly.

So they set out, always she was always trying to separate herself from her party, venturing out further looking for hint of Lincoln. It'd been days since he’d brought her back, and when the relief at being with friends and family subdued, her curiosity and thoughts were about the people who saved her. Everyone else, to her, seemed focused on getting the group to a better place then the day before. Octavia knew the key to everything important was with the people already on these lands.

Bellamy was already going out daily, systematically analyzing the land. Not mapping or looking for resources, but assessing threats, checking for ambush or defensive spots. That third day though, Bellamy was distracted, and frustrated with the casual chatter and ambivalence of the importance of what they were trying to do. He tried, too hard, to act as if something wasn’t missing, someone. But finally, FINALLY, Finn questioned during a midday scout around the drop ship.

“Hey, has anyone seen Murphy? I haven't seen him since yesterday.”

Bellamy made an exasperated face and scoffing noise before he realised that indeed it had only been a half day or so that he hadn't seen Murphy. HE tried to hid his reaction with dragging a hand through his hair, rubbing his face as if he was sweating from heat and not from stress.

Clarke observantly raised an eyebrow at Bellamy, who may have noticed but looked anywhere other than back at her.

Octavia wasn’t paying attention to any of this, still scanning the shadows for Lincoln and distractedly prompted, “the bunks near you tho right, did ya seen him recently?”

Bellamy can feel the smirk and barely restrained giggle from Clarke but he ignores her still, instead focused on narrowing his eyes at his sister, “I haven't seen him, not for awhile. Someone should find him. If no one's seen him”

Bellamy felt like he was rambling, the awkward words said in such a gruff lawful tone was bit hilarious, at least to him. Apparently also to Clarke who let out a few laughs that progressed into a hyperventilating laugh, as the others looked to her as if she'd lost her mind.

Bellamy looked like murder was on the menu, and was inching toward her threateningly.

Clarke quickly injterjected. “Best to split up and look for him then/“ Clearly trying to wave Bellamy off. “Octavia, keep an eye on your brother okay?” ANd clarke basically ran off with a wave motioning to th ohers that followed her, Jasper and Monty, to follow her. 

Bellamy gared then sighed, motioning for his sister to follow him as the griffin siblings went off in the other direction, like a fork in the road as opposed to left versus right. 

About an hour walk (not run, walk) from the Blake’s path a voice yelled out.

“Indra is back!”

The eye of fate now distracted, we move to see Indra in front of this group, with two larger men in back dragging Murphy's unconscious body. Murphy is dropped on the ground and Lincoln walks up, still leaving the woman between he and the captured boy.

Lincoln stares at his general, confused and conflicted. This skai kru looked at him as if he was familiar, as if recognizing him from a story or description. He wondered if Oktavia mentioned him or possibly, it could be just a coincidence. But he doubted it.

Indra, not seeing this conflict on Lincoln's face, barked “It's time to get some answers.” It was clear she spoke more to her allies in the chamber than to the exhausted prisoner.She looked to him savagely, “(Gustus and Nyko, secure him.”

Lincoln watched the larger men step forward and wrap rope made from vines, seeing them wrap his arms and feet tighter than safe and dares to step forward. Lowly, so the others can't hear, mutters. “Are the Sky Crew our enemies?”

Indra nods. “They are intruders, Invaders. We deal with enemies in only one way. Permanently.”

Several hours later, as the sky darkened, Indra and behind her, Lincoln quietly stands, both are seen watching over a captive and bloody Murphy.

Lincoln looks to the boy. “We shouldn’t kill him.”

Indra glares and says. "Lincoln, get the hell out now. Heda is not here. Get out, or he gets more of the beating I've giving him." Lincoln hesitates for a notably long moment then nods and heads out.

Indra continues, now just her and the two burly men at the entrance to the camber. “You would be fierce if you had face paint on.” She leans in closely, cocky as she smears mud on Murphy's face.

 

Murphy headbutts Indra, knocking her back a few steps.

 

Indra recovers and steps back up to Murphy, punching him in the stomach, he bows over gasping as the air is knocked out of his lungs. 

“You'll die for this, I promise.” she growls as she spits in his face, Murphy noting it was mostly blood. tHer hand lifts to discretly, she hopes hold her nose as she quietly leaves.   
.

Later that night, Lincoln quietly enters the room that Murphy is being held in. 

Lincoln “We don’t have a lot of time. I brought you some water. Here. DO you know Octavia?” He says, walking over to Murph. Lincoln holds up the water Murphy raises his beaten head painful. and Murphy drinks. looks at him. “Yes, I know Octavia.” And his next words are complicated, and Lincoln has trouble translating to his first language, but it sounds as if he protected somehow by the brother of Oktavia. 

His Heda’s words and Oktavia's reaction echoed in his mind. “We approach a turning point, how you and your people choose to act in the coming days will shape our paths for a long time to come.”

Lincoln continues quietly, “my general keeps a close eye on me, she can be ruthless. As you know…” 

Murphy chuckles and winces, clearly in pain from his injures.  
Lincoln notices and says, “ I can clean your wounds, I am a healer in these lands.”

Murphy shrugs in his chains, growing out, “Do your worst, my name is Murphy...Please tell my people what happened… after I’m dead.”

Lincoln says, surprising himself with a decision “You won't’ die.”

Murphy finds the strength to shake his head, not so optimistic. “This only ends one way.”

Lincoln mutters, “Just tell her what you know. Tell them you’re not the enemy.”

Murphy shakes his head "I won't give him-, them up." He says, trying to correct his slip of tongue.  
It doesn’t seem matter, Murphy rues to himself, as he sees Lincoln walks to the edge of the room towards the exit. Murphy thinks he'd left him to his fate. 

As the sky darkened completely the sounds of footsteps increased, and once again Lincoln came into sight bringing an air of guilt that Murphy dared some hope to place.

Lincoln stalked up to Murphy, tied with ropes in a corner of the chamber and drew out a knife. Murphy tried to back away, wondering if this was a mercy or ordered kill and Lincoln grabbed at his hands.

Murphy began to beg “Please no, c’mon man I didn't do anything..Octavia sorta likes me , I'll do whatever man.” ANd his rambling is cut off with a shh nose and Lincoln cutting the ropes, pulling Murphy to his feet. He grabs his wrist, smirks, and says, “Run!”

And fuck it, Murphy ran.


	8. All There Is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Authors Note: Bit late with this one, We are off the map now, slowing my pace of updating until I get to a landmark I recognize. I have so many pages written for future “seasons” but actually getting to that point in space and time is the key. 
> 
>  
> 
> Everything she’d done, or would try to do, was for their survival. She tried to tell them it was safe, that they could try again and send more people, this time the machines and computers would not fail. Now no one would listen to her, so she set out to make them listen.

Octavia and Bellamy were still walking in the woods, but because was Octavia scampering off to climb a tree and look around every so often, it wasn’t as straight, or nearly as as fast, as the raven flies. Regardless of Bellamy's logic that she would hardly be able to see one person walking through the woods, she kept darting off and trying to shimmy up, to varying degrees of success.

“This is not the time Octavia. I should just leave you stuck up a tree one this time.” He threatened this a couple times, if only just to keep her damn feet on the ground.

It hadn’t worked yet, and he was getting frustrated enough that he nearly stomped his foot in frustration. 

Octavia just laughed at him, liking being as far away from underground as possible. The higher she went, the farther from the floor she despised being under she was. It was strange logic, but it was hers.

Not at all far away from the siblings, there was a different type of logic and reality catching up to our friends. 

He was tired. Floating fuck was he tired. He wasn't sure how long he ran/stumbled alongside Lincoln, but it felt like the hardest thing he’d ever done.

Murphy was not in a running, or even swiftly walking, sort of condition right now. Everything hurt. The worst, relatively speaking, were his legs from being pushed or dragged along rough ground when he was captured by the grounders hours before. 

Lincoln went from pulling him along, to shoving him along, trying to brush away their trail as he went, but it was a half-hearted effort at best. In his haste, and much to his embarrassment as TreKru, he ran into someone who was just as distracted, staring upward into the trees. Both males staggered, and Lincoln recovered first, pushing Murphy behind him and drawing his weapon.

This boy was clearly not Trekru, or any grounder tribe he’d ever seen. There was something familiar about him though… The man paced restlessly behind him, calling out to the boy behind him, Lincoln realized. Murphy was barely awake at this point. But At hearing his name called desperately like that, Murphy tried to focus his eyes on that familiar sounding blur. ANd then his wobbly fuzzy head cleared, if only briefly.

“Bellamy?” Murphy yelled, 

Lincoln was distracted from this by a high pitched “Linc-” and the sound of a shriek immediately preceded the sound of a branch breaking as a familiar person fell from the sky, again. 

Lincoln looked her over for a moment, she seemed fine, if the blush was anything to go by. He merely raised a hand to her prone state and warmly said, “Hello again.”

She happily reached for his hand and clamored to her feet, brushing twigs off her clothes but missing the ones in her hair completely.

“Lincoln?! How did you get here?” She rushingly questioned, trying to steer away from her fall. She looked to Bellamy, sure he’d be halfway to cracking a joke and she stilled when she saw him hugging Murphy. Still hugging. Hugging for a few minutes actually. She got that thinking look on her face as she wondered when they’d became so... such close friends. 

Lincoln was only looking at her and smiling quietly, before remembering his haste. THe moment ruined, he began to shoo them back the way they came. “SkyKru you need to go!” He began to order desperately and quietly. “They are looking for SkyKru, you must leave. I’ll..come to you when I can to talk...” He looked uncertain, before adding, “Watch out for the healer and her little bird.”

The three, even Murphy delirious with exhaustion and pain, looked completely confused.

Lincoln nodded, “It is good that you don't know what I speak of. It might save you. Now go! As quietly as possible!”

The trio shuffled out of his line of sight, not nearly as quietly as he’d hoped. He ran as quietly as he dared, in a quarter circle around the tiny shelter that how own people had set up, and then sprinted, loudly and sloppily, into the grounders makeshift camp. Indra was loudly cursing the guards, who’d somehow fallen asleep in the short time she had been indisposed. All turned to the noise Lincoln was making as he ran in.

“I thought I heard..Then I went to go see ...a camp of strange people just through the woods near us. Indra, We must infor- What?” He looked as confused as possible. “What?”

Indra looked at him in suspicion, then disgust.

“Lincoln! While you were abandoning your post to jeopardize our sealth for the sake of your curiosity, those people came into our camp for the prisoner!” And she marched forward, reeling up and solidly punching him in the stomach. Lincoln doubled over in pain, but did not otherwise react.

“Bind his hands and make him walk behind the horses back to TonDC. Then Heda can deal with him.” And she hit him again as the men tied his hands, he merely gasped out an apology.

“Pointless.” She muttered, and reassessed her thoughts on the strange people. Clearly they were more tactical than she’d assumed.

“One of the great disadvantages of hurry is that it takes such a long time.”  
― G.K. Chesterton, All Things Considered

“God damnit Octavia, will you keep moving and not turning around. We have to get back to camp!”

Bellamy barked, shouldering most of Murphy’s weight, who was muttering nonsense under his breath. “Murphy, dammit shut up and keep moving,... before you say something totally insane.” He added, trying to glare at Murphy whose gratitude of being saved was getting a little too close to flirting.

Bellamy was right though, Murphy really needed to concentrate on forward momentum, so whatever came out of his mouth bypassed whatever semblance of a filter he normally had. 

Finally, finally, the camp came into sight. Bellamy tugged Murphy to himself and gestured Octavia forward. “Get the Princess, tell her to bring her medical shit.”

Octavia nodded and ran off ahead. Murphy settled into nuzzling Bellamy's neck as the other man supported him. “Thanks Bill.”

Bellamy sighed, “Bell.” 

“Eyy. Ring ring, I had a rough day… naa meeaann?” “and he giggled before his knees buckled, finally falling unconscious. Bellamy had to go from rolling his eyes at this idiot to catching Murphy before he fell. Wrapping an arm under his failed knees he lifted Murphy to carry the rest of the distance, promising never to use Murphy’s actual name to him again in punishment for accidentally calling him ‘Bill’.

‘Wait.. Is there a Bill?’ He wondered wildly, his train of thought (unfortunately for us) interrupted when he could see Clarke running out with a bag towards them. Bellamy only slowed down a fraction as he carried Murphys slender frame, though he contended that Murphy was still much heavier than he looked.

 

“...the primary paradox that man is superior to all the things around him and yet is at their mercy.”  
― G.K. Chesterton, All Things Considered

 

The room was silent, tense. Heda sat on her TonDc throne and looked down at the two before her. One bowed low with his hands bound, and the other gripping her sword hilt tight in anticipation and vengeance.

“What say you, Lincoln com TreKru, to your failures and poor judgement?”

“Commander. I admit I abandoned my post, but as I was scouting the from a stationary point, I thought I heard the sounds of strange people and human trials in the forest. It was there I nearly ran into some of the SkyKru camp.”

At this Indra narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth to interrupt, silenced immediately by the Heda holding up a hand for her. Indra’s seethed quietly as she was hushed, as if she suspected trickery. She would have remembered his use of such a strange word. One that the Heda seemed familiar with or interested in.

Heda tried to school her face not to react, but... the news of the SkyKru? That changed things. Heda looked to Indra, then back to Lincoln as he continued with her nod.

“I understand my actions to learn more and assuage their threat to our people, may have consequences, unintended or otherwise. I will gladly take any punishment to regain favor.”

Heda started blankly back and spoke lowly. “This will not be taken lightly, what you did could have serious effect on our tribe. leave us Indra, I wish to.. speak to Lincoln in private.” Indra's eyes glowed with imagined torture and nodded, leaving them alone.

When Heda was sure Indra was gone, when everyone was gone, she walked up to Lincoln, standing a foot away.

“I do hope that you will not attempt to fool me as you have Indra, she would hardly have brought you back hole if she knew the truth. The truth that you will tell me Lincoln, now what are you hiding?” She lowly ordered, her companionship with Lincoln keeping her somewhat open minded, which was a questionable strength, considering.

He nodded, his eyes begging her to let him continue, to explain. The Heda noded, but with a critically raised eyebrow. 

“While in the woods. The SkyKru I came upon were two, a brother and sister named Bellamy… and Oktavia.” And she began to understand what he did and why, though she was pretty certain he was lying about the first part of his innocence in it.

“Good. Tell me the rest of it.”

Lincoln swallowed his nervousness, and spoke true, with the air of a man giving his last words.

 

“The modern instinct is that if the heart of man is evil, there is nothing that remains good. But the older feeling was that if the heart of man was ever so evil, there was something that remained good--goodness remained good.”  
― G.K. Chesterton, All Things Considered

 

The eye of fate looked to the sky, and perhaps a bit back in time, as a modulated voice cursed at the spacewalker. “Damn it, Raven. Wait for pressurization.”

Raven scoffed them off, knowing she needed to figure out this puzzle as she quipped back. “What, are they gonna float me for looking? Guys, come on. A drop ship was launched. You’re not curious about that?”

He coworker at the radio, Parker, hurriedly responded. “It was not launched. It was ejected. According to engineering, a routine maintenance accident forced them to eject.”

Raven waved off his company line excuse and made to leave, remarking on visiting the cells.

Parker shook his head. “Raven, stop. Lockup been quarantined. There’s some kind of a virus. There’s no visitation for awhile at least. Sorry.”

Raven didn’t even respond, instead she stalked off in search of the closet thing she had to a friend still on this forsaken tin can. And she found her, huddled over a computer that swiftly shut off. Raven raised an eyebrow. 

“Really Abby, we do secrets now? Why? What’s going on? And I mean besides whatever’s on that monitor. There’s no virus in lockup, is there?”

Abby narrowed her eyes at the younger girl. “I can’t talk about those things, you know that Raven.”

The younger girl reached down and grabbed her hand. “Can you tell me if they’re okay, at least?”

Abby pulled her hand away, shaking her head firmly. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Raven stepped back, the anger of rejection clear on her face. “No, you’re not. the council’s hiding something, and I’m gonna find out what it is.”

As Raven stalked off, Abby sighed in frustration as she turned her computer monitor back on. She was searching through her options to get to the ground. She was so sure, so sure it was fine down there. She just needed to get the Council to see there was only one option. That part she already had a plan at the ready. But if they went down together, there would be the same power struggle.

But if she went first…But she couldn’t figure out how she could get to the..  
Abby’s eyes lit up, dots connecting.  
‘Yes, that could work.’

The next morning Raven stuck her head into Abby's office.  
Raven smiled widely, “Did someone call for a mechanic?”


	9. Brave Traveler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are we savages, or are we brave?’ Mr Robot.
> 
> The eye of fate turns to our heroes, Clarke and Lexa chapter <3 plus a bit more.

“Are we savages, or are we brave?’ Mr Robot.

Clarke woke up from a nightmare, sometime during an ordinary night, her breathe racing and labored. She couldn't really remember her dream, but all could feel, remember, a sense of too little too late. 

The blonde scrunched up her face in conflicting emotions. She had this new opportunity to right wrongs, but what if no one listened, what if it didn't matter? Others have thought what she felt, said what she said, and had done it earlier to garner the support she desperately wanted. But maybe it was too late to tell Clarke’s story. All things considered, maybe everyone was on to something newer and shinier than her.

Then again, maybe it wasn't too late. Who even knows what's worth it anymore.

The Griffin girl tossed and turned, filled with random existential thoughts. THoughts she didn't understand. Through each musing, she could hear the relentless chatter of those in camp still awake. Life seemed spread out between all hours of day and night. Even when it seemed everyone was asleep, someone was out and about.

Clarke wasn’t though, she just wanted a few floating minutes to just rest. 

But she couldn’t, feeling that things could explode into a big bang of complexity. Fate mused that she would look on how things were now and think them unbelievably simple, 

But for Clarke, she could barely remember how it felt before even now. Looking back on the Arc, she wondered how she’d even been so simple. Life, was so much easier when you are numb…Maybe it’ll get better, maybe things will matter and people will know her story and care. Maybe not. But she knew, deep down, that at least the eye of fate cared. And for them both, they would have to be enough.

She tossed and turned as the hours passed, trying to get comfortable on the now familiar but barely covered ground, settling on facing out into the open night. Still she sighed, looking out through the flap of her own lean to, seeing the campfires always present. Bellamy was out there somewhere, he seemed best equipped to handle the nighttime situations. They decided something early on, feeling an importance to guard their borders.

Clarke embraced role the sky princess during the daylight hours, mainly because it was all anyone ever called her. She blamed the powerhouse of the cell. Clarke focused back on the sky, a random but too close light in the night. Perhaps it wasn’t the Arc, it could be anything. There were others in the camp who followed the technical bits. But wherever it was, that place up there somewhere was once her home. Now she was seeing the sky in a new way, maybe really for the first time. 

Now she was actually looking at the sky, before she just tried to get a glimpse or eyeful of the ground. Clarke felt such longing and promise whenever she could stare at it back then. She always felt a longing for whatever was down there.. Someone was her home here, no, her home was here somewhere. She was the Sky Princess and was building her home, their peoples home. She could keep them safe..

Surely sleeping in this makeshift shelter made from fragments of the dropship wasn't what she meant by home, there had to be somewhere out there, a ...s- home. A people and culture for her people to be a part of. 

Life history on the arc was so detached, they learned how people once were, but everyone was just divided up into stations, fulfilling a need, Just existing. For all the nice speeches, they were just alive as an in between generation. Her friends and people were never expected to be the ones on the ground, especially expendable delinquents. Surviving down her no one considered, especially her floating fuckin liar of a mother. Ever her classes were stepped in theory. No one took any of it seriously. No one even took PIke seriously-…

Oh

Well, now that opened up a can of worms.

They knew, they must have, but for how long?…. Her mother? Was she part of it?… And Clarke knew, she knew instantly and deep into her soul maybe already knew before. Her own mother, she was evil.

The matriarchal Girffin did it all on purpose, god what a master plan. Shiting a paranoid eye up into those in the sky up there, she knew it would now always haunt her. Simply being plagued by it wouldn't be the end of it. Clarke knew she'd see her mother again one day, and then finally all pretenses of loyalty would freeze off and die. Her mother wasn't her home. Clarke could only imagine what her mother wold do with the same opportunity on the ground her daughter had been given.

Now thogh, Clarke felt closer to home that she ever hoped to know. She couldn't deny that there was just something missing, some lonely ache. She looked out, she wondered if she'd ever know what that was

Who that was. 

Again the confusing carved through her mind, leaving behind the imprint of a pair of green lights in the darkness, Accompanied by the smell of earth, and the heated forces of fate, no a succumbing of exhaustion claiming its due, if only for a bit.

Sighing not much later, she got up, rubbed the almost sleep away from her eyes, and stood up. Casting an eye out to the nearest bonfire she saw at least one person awake staring silently into the fire, good enough.

She walked out, quietly and sat near him, realizing there were two people more curled up on a makeshift bedding that was mostly a nest of repurposed blankets, a bit away on the ground She struggled to remember their names only for a few moments, Bryan and Miller, and both seemed totally unconscious.

“Hey Clarke, couldn't sleep?” Monty replied back, bringing her attention back to him. He was offering over her some of his trademark moonshine. She nodded with a half smile on her face and took the offered drink, holding on to it for a bit as Monty seemed to pull another one from the area in shadow behind him.

She was content to stare at the flame consuming its base but seeming to coexist with the space and silence it was given. Both sitting], a short time later it interrupted by one of the two.

"It’s good that they have someone, they they came down together. Being separated would be been terrible...” Monty mused quietly, and Clarke looked to him, then to the pair he was referencing, remembering they were there, and taking in their close embrace, even in sleep. It was nice, someone was happy. Clarke found herself always battling to make sure her people's happiness, safety, and hope remained intact and unthreatened. It was nice to see it was worth it, in some little way.

She was startled out of her mission statement as Monty continued. “Do you ever wonder how things are going up there? How our families and friends are, the ones we were separated out from? They're alright right?” He asked, turning with his thoughts and turmoil already displayed all over his tan face, his deep brown eyes widening with the need for reassurance.

Clarke inhaled to respond and then hesitated, seeing that he wasn't really asking about her own thoughts, and that was okay. It was too deep and complicated to get into anyway, so she responded vaguely, lobbing it back at him.

“I do, but things down here take up most of my concentration,” Clarke said lowly, but casually. She didn't want to disturb the peace that cocooned the area around them. “What about you Monty? What's on your gigantic mind? I’m sure your mom is doing great. Probably still keeping the rest of the Arc going...”

Plants on the Arc were the only sustainable solution to providing food to those on the arc, so far above Earth. But also, the crops they grew would not only supplement a healthy diet, but also remove toxic carbon dioxide from the air inside their spacecraft and create life-sustaining oxygen. Clarke knew that oxygen gave them additional and vital time, but it was still borrowed time. She did fear for them up all up there, even her mother, maybe. 

Now though, her thoughts were muddled but she tried to focus on Monty’s mother. She wondered if the two would ever may meet again. Monty was clearly dwelling on the same. Unknowns were hard to deal with. Monty looked again at her, this time inviting to vent his thoughts.

 

The eye of fate turned across the land, to a girl a similar age but living an entirely different life. Lexa laid away in a bed of furs, alone, and looked out the window at the sky. The sense of longing and promise that filled her when she looked at the stars wasn't there anymore, it seemed more lateral. It didn't make sense but then neither did the feeling in the first place.

She curled up over a particularly plush throw and sighed, still looking out into the open sky, breathing in the cool air. Relaxing times like this were so precious, feeling like they would end at any point. Such was the life of Heda, she presumed. But she couldn't help feeling that her story wouldn't matter, that what she learned and felt would matter. Life turned over on itself to start anew, she believed, but she felt that this time around she had more instinct to go on for some reason. She felt and dreamed the past efforts, knew how she failed, felt something was on her horizon that signaled the death of her and the spirit finding another, but the awareness this time felt new, she felt that maybe she could change things. The world didn't have to consume itself and fate out into an inevitable death. She shook off the paranoia that the Mountain Men would somehow make a reaper's bite contagious. Then there would be no safe harbor. As ridiculous as that seemed, such an odd thought about a nick of flesh near her heart. So odd, she'd hadn't recently sent for the Boat Nation. 

A cold gust blew in the wind and through her thoughts, brushing the weaker reality away. She shuffed further into her bedding, the very opposite of what tough was. But... the heart behind the sword and shield that was Heda, that person lifted the mantle, and that person was yearning, looking for something.

Some nights she dreamed, almost as if she was a glorious bird,soaring and hunting through the air, soaring so high she was in the stars, her heart calling her to a cold star closer that she even believed possible. But dreams were wonderfully illogical things, and Lexa relished in their deliriousness illogical nature.

She'd felt lost much of her life, her childhood sacrificed for her training and warring for peace. She was driven to achieve goals beyond anyone's years, but each triumph and victory she won, she kept feeling that sense of a not achieving something. IT kept her stone,g hungry, but she fought to ensure that the children of her people would live happy lives, and have the childhood she never could have. On nights like these, paradise lost left her awake and troubled.

"There's something out there for me, some magical spirit. I know it is true. I just wish I had it now." SHe murmered to the sky she could see, wondering.

Finding the Octavia, learning of the Skru, felt crucial. Like finally finding a pawprint when hunting prey for hours without a trail. She felt so close, even though deep down, she knew she could had eternity to go.

Unable to sleep, she quietly got up and dressed, grabbing her basic armor and daggers. Sheathing them, she applied ample facepaint and rebraided her long brown hair by touch memory in the partial mood light.

She stared into the mirror, feeling and seeing a feral grin spread over her face as her eyes narrowed predatory. SHe turned from her reflection and quietly went to the window, looking down and then back to the door, considering. Heda thought about her current guards. With the uncertain times, she usually had a warrior bodyguard, and a healer body guard. Tonight it would likely be Ryder and Nyko, the bonded pair were definitely greater than the sum of their parts. The two men reacted to each other nearly the instant before the other acts, and they always had some silent way of communicating. She quietly called for both of them to enter.

Two giant men, brunettes with full braided beards and facial tattoos entered. Ryder, the first, holding a longbow that was reinforced for melee, and while entering the room holding it with an arrow drawn at the ready, Heda knew he could debiliate, maim, or kill at a moment's notice with in very close combat. The other, Nyko, surveyed the room from behind the other, hand on his sheathed blade, less sure of a threat than Ryder.

The two men scanned the room independently, finding no obvious threat, then looked to their Heda, who was dressed to march.

“Heda, is there a threat?” Nyko finally asks, Ryder just scanning the room over and over, wanting proof instead of words.

The Commander waved off the tension as only the Heda can. “No threat, just a test. I feel called to hunt, test our guard, see if there is a weakness that someone could exploit. I trust you two to remain at the door as if I am inside.”

The two men nodded, confident in their fellow Trekru to not disappoint the Heda, but a bit strained because to guard the Heda was of utmost importance. She could not go out alone. 

“Heda, beja, take someone with you, to guard you in case of something unforeseen, or to double your efforts.” Ryder added, unwilling to let the Commander go unprotected.

“Indra would certainly relish the opportunity to test and prove her warriors, or to expose weakness.” Nyko said knowingly, smirking. 

The Heda seemed affronted by Ryder for a moment, then saw the wisdom and opportunity in Nykos words. Indra would enjoy the fun, and the torment of anyone who failed her. And with Indra's prowess and skill, someone certainly would.

So she nodded to Nyko to go fetch Indra, who returned curiously a few moments later.

“Indra, tell me, these warriors of yours here in TonDC, care to test them?” Heda spoke lowly, with a gin.  
Indra responded in kind, knowing where the young commander was going with this.

 

The eye of fate turned away and blinked, casting up into the sky once more.

 

“We’re all living in each others paranoia, you definitely can’t argue that." Mr Robot

Abby looked at her, calculating, but seemed to arrive at a positive decision. "I need someone I can trust, who is also a mechanic. You couldn't ever tell anyone though, it would endanger those on the ground…” 

Raven stepped forward, folding her arms and crossing them, “Look, you know I’m not gonna say anything, okay? Are you in trouble? Am I joining you in trouble?”

Abby shakes her head back at her, resting a hand on her shoulder. after a beat running it up to her cheek. Rave fluttered a bit into it, even though she was trying to appear unaffected. 

Abby knew exactly what she was doing though, and softly, pleadingly said, "We are not in trouble. Follow me.” THe older woman moving her hand from Raven's cheek to tug at her closest hand to pull her out and along the empty hallway.

Raven bit her lip but couldn't help but follow her lead, quippint as she followed her. “Not in trouble yet, you mean.”

Abby sighs, not responding but leading her down the hall, turning down corridors that Raven knew until they got to the areas she did not.

Raven hesitates, pulling back on Abby's hand. “This level’s off limits for people like me.”

Abby lifts her hand to Raven's face once more and proceeded to wide her eyes imploring, begging trust. “Not anymore. You know that some were sent to the ground What you don’t know is why. The Ark is dying, Raven. Life support is on its last legs. A lot of people are going to die, maybe everyone, unless the council is forced to act.”

Raven stared wide-eyed in shock, recovering only enough to clarify why. “I don’t get it. Why are you telling me this?”

Abby pulled her hand away and stared patiently at her, stepping a foot span away. “I can trust you, remember? Also, you’re the youngest zero-g mechanic on the Ark in fifty years.”

Raven took a half step forward, wanting to close the distance, feeling Abby's absence. "Fifty-two, but, so what? Why…”

Abby's face showed a lightening strike of victory before she schooled it into a sense of hope and determination, but a bit of mania bled through. “We need to set a fire under the Council, show them the ground is the best option. Those kids are alive and safe I know it. After we scare them, You have nine days to get this ready so we can survive a drop.”

Raven felt lost, in over her head, and a sense of dread began to settle in her bones, in the coming hours, day, weeks and beyond maybe it wold feel normal, almost fading away but never really. She opened her mouth and stared, finally finding words. “How..how do you plan to scare them." Hopefully that maybe there was good, or she could still get out...

Abby’s eyes darkened slightly, the mask of friend and mother figure dropping into something a bit too calculating again.

“The same way you did, little space walker. We’re going to burn up the oxygen.”


	10. Trial of the Optimist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning, this chapter gets violent. If you'd rather not be spoiled skip the rest of this paragraph… But as a former animal shelter working, I acknowledge that for fellow animal lovers, this will be a hard chapter to get through. I have seen terrible injuries and suffering done to animals, it hurts me to know this exists. But we must think occasionally of the suffering we spare ourselves the sight. It will resolve, fear not dear friends, fear not.
> 
> But first...

“The person who is really in revolt is the optimist, who generally lives and dies in a desperate and suicidal effort to persuade other people how good they are.” G.K. Chesterton, author of All Things Considered.

 

“No..” Raven unwillingly gasped, confirmed Abby’s theory. Raven was lost in waves of desperation and denial. No one could have known what really happened, no one knew she was out there too, along with Finn. He’d gotten jammed up in his suit, and he told her to run. She didn’t even think about it. She ran, ran and ran. Days later, when it was said that the one spacewalker who wasted months worth of oxygen was in detainment said he acted alone, that she knew she’d gotten away with it. 

She didn’t really though. The fact that she’s betrayed one of her friends hollowed her out, cutting her off from the rest of her friends, her best friends and only friends. Her mother was an alcoholic, selling her own and only daughters food portions away for boose, a lost selfish soul. But, Raven supposed, she wasn't too different, she sold her friend out without even pausing to try to help, to even consider helping. And she was forever ashamed for it.

So she tried to avoid the rest of them from that point on, especially Clarke and Wells, both were too smart for her own good. They weren’t sure, but they strongly suspected. She was overcome with guilt whenever she saw any of them, effectively pleading guilty to their suspicions and accusations. Raven was too ashamed to even consider lying, trying to win them over even to escape the agonizing loneliness that grew day by day, with each hurtful or angry glare from the ones she's grown up calling family.

Finn was too naive to rat his friend out, and when it all went to shit he didn’t even suspect that she already was selfishly determined to save herself, knowing he at least had a chance, being a minor. She changed in an instant with that cold calculating move, never really feeling the same after that point, towards herself or anyone else. Ad that meant the burning of bridges, but she cast companionship to Abby, and now it was all she had left. 

But now, at the truth being thrown at her like dirty dishwater she felt that mask wash away. Looking back to Abby, she saw only a confident small grin of victory and patience and that made her angry.

Raven raised a rebellious lip, curling it in anger and focusing on the facts and reality. “How did you know? Finn was the only one caught..”

Abby smirked back, hiding her surprise at how it was clicking into place. She was determined to hold the operand, and schooled away at her surprise. She wasn’t sure before, about Raven. But now she knew this patient before her, know how to make her tick. “I know a lot of things, Raven. I know I need to get to the ground, and I have a plan. ” Seeing Raven square up in defiance and independence, Abby’s mind raced to quell the girls changing of loyalty to turn back to her. She segwayed into a vulnerable visage. Trying to seem the part of the doting family friend she tried to stutter out, as if breaking down, “But I need you.”

Raven stared, then stammered as Abby cracked a bit and raised a confident eyebrow upward.  
Raven saw the heap of metal behind Abby and realized what her task was. Her heart clamored in her chest as she felt nauseous. “God, what a piece of junk. You want me to get a hundred-and-thirty-year-old escape pod ready to stand up to the inferno of re-entry in nine days?”

Abby was getting a bit impatient. Now that she was so close to seeing the plausibility and path of her plan, she was anxious to get it going.“Can you do it or not?”

Raven interjected, mind alight with the possibilities. “Hell, yes, I can do it, but I’m going with you. You’re not the only one who wants off this tin can. Those are my terms. Take it or leave it.”

Abby pretend to debate it, already deciding that an ally in foreign territory was a resource she could not let go. Counting to three, ahse theratericaly nodded. “All right. You can come with me.”

Raven was played like a fiddle, and took the bait nodding. “You got yourself a mechanic.”

Abby had a lot to learn about being a criminal mastermind, assuming she’s got the opportunity to practice. The plan got pretty far along really, Raven was able to get the parts to a reasonable possibility of not exploding them halfway to the ground. But it was hard to Abby to mask her emotions, her bitterness at the lack of vision from her fellow council members. 

Abby asked too many questions, or just really pushy ones. About scheduled spacewalks and the level of experience of the mechanics on duty and at the controls. But Jaha had little reason to suspect her. The woman had gone above and beyond what was expected of her to protect the arc. Surely she was just emotional and off kilter at the loss of her daughter and the rest of the children, Jaha himself was barely holding on with the uncertainty of his son. Not having more backup data/vitals monitoring was an egregious oversight, one he’s not sure how happened.

Kane though, Kane knew nefarious when he saw it. He’s done his fair share of scheming and self-serving, and he recognized that Abby seemed much less restrained... sane even, than she was before. Doctor Griffin was off the rails, and it only took him a few days to figure out why.

But it took too long for them all to realize just what Abby had done, damning them all.

“Men invent new ideals because they dare not attempt old ideals. They look forward with enthusiasm, because they are afraid to look back.”  
G. K. Chesterton, author of “All Things Considered.”

The night went on, and Clarke stayed by the fire. Eventually she heard a familiar low chuckle and a hand gently slap down on her shoulder. 

“Can’t sleep, Princess?” Bellamy asked, before sitting down quicker than a well rested person would next to her.

Clarke didn’t comment on his tiredness, voicing her unrelated thoughts instead. “You wonder when the other shoe will drop?” She said, gesturing upward. 

“I can't help but wonder when the next drop ship will come. Even though they have no reason to think we are down here, or that it’s safe. They're near the end of their rope up there. We won't avoid them forever. Someday, someone will come down.."

Bellamy stiffened where he sat, shaking his head. "Hope not Clarke. Let them stay and rot up there.” He stared ahead, tense. He shook himself out of it a bit, and realized Clarke was staring at him, trying to figure him out. He brushed her away with a wave of his hand out into the dark wilderness. “Princess, we have a closer problems to worry about.”

 

Clarke nodded in acquiesce, opening up a bit more and speaking what else was on her mind. “Don’t you feel that something big is coming? I know it’s all different, on the ground when before we thought we were dead kids walking. But now, I don't know Bell, I just feel like we are tipping over the edge of something. And by the time we realize it, it will already be too late and we will fall again.”

Bell stared back at her, solidly distracted from his own train of thoughts. He was so focused on getting a parameter around their current situation that he didn't appreciate the sheer unknown of an entire strange world out there. One decidedly not abandoned like they’d all assumed. It was too much to dwell on.

As if to confirm this new reality, there was a crash and high, animal-like shriek just out of sight of the edge of the flame. Clarke and Bellamy startled to their feet, any moment completely lost. The same terrible noise cried again, and something in Clarke broke at the clear pain. Her left hand went to her pants pocket, fingering the sedative/antibiotic that Octavia had hurriedly pushed into her hands. At the time Octavia merely begged her not to tell Bellamy. “He wouldn't trust it, he would throw it away and suspect the grounders even more. I trust them, and even if you don’t, just consider that if you really need it, it just might work.. And Clarke remembered heeling Octavia press something into her hand, and she discretely later confirmed that it was a handful of pieces of fabric accompanied by a palm sized vial of liquid. At the time Octavia promised, “inhaling that will put someone out, it's a healing thing...”

Hand sliding to her waist, ensuring she had her machete, she looked to Bellamy and nodded, running into the trees. Bellamy scanned around to Monty a short distance away and belted out “Be right back, get a watch going. Please” And Murphy only had to nod, before Bellamy ran off, spear in hand, and maybe a secret firearm, though he'd keep that hidden till he couldn't anymore.

Many feet ahead, Clarke burst through the bushes into a fight between predator and smaller predator. Judging by the blood, and noises coming from the animal that defended its colony, one set was clearly losing.

Clarke noticed the larger animal immediately. She had only read about them in books, but it looked to be an old and skinny, still dangerous black bear. 

In front of it, literally between her and the bear, was a pack of at least twenty smaller creatures. They were short and had long, diverse hair patterns. She noted with a tightening of her throat that some of the larger ones looked wounded, trying to protect the young from this threat. 

Clarke was pretty sure these were some sort of feline creatures… What was it… cat? Yeah, cats. Clarke was seeing something she read that many before the bombs dropped knew. These were cats. They didn't look like the ones she'd seen in pictures though, well maybe sorta. These cats were long haired, and while their legs were half at least the length they should have been (according to her limited knowledge but really, they were obnoxiously short legs), they seemed well apt at survival, looking mostly unhurt apart from currently being cornered by an apex predator like the bear. 

The smaller animals, Clarke thought in a race, only had one chance of surviving this, and that was through escape. But Clarke saw at least a dozen young cats, some so small their eyes were barely opened, ones that wouldn't be able to get away and escape. And even though they were relatively simple creatures, Clarke knew why the adults were holding their ground. The adults knew what would happen if they ran and so they defended and prepared to die for them, and if Clarke ignored it all and retreated back to safety, or left the smaller animals to get reinforcements to kill the bear later, this group of creatures would all perish with her dismissal.

The bear didn’t care for any of the deeper meanings and emotions running through the clearing or Clarke's head, but it focus it's wrath on the newcomer, on Clarke. The beast took a step forward lunging at her, seeing her as an intruding predator to this kill the bear had lined up. The animals closest to the bear didn't know, thinking the bear was finally moving for the weakest, the babies, in its path. So one strong long haired black and brown cat with a warpaint-like black mask over its eyes and tangled almost braided fur launched herself desperately at the bear, who caught her with a grappling paw as she bit at the bears too thick skin. Irritated, the bear began to beat at the annoyance. After only a few blows to the relatively tiny but fierce creature, the irrating pain in the bears neck ceased.

The animal screamed out in pain, and Clarke lost herself before the first tiny lungful expired. She blindly raged forward screaming and crying for this shitty goddamn reality, and for that animal she never knew existed, snuffed out only trying to help its own. She ran at the animal who was lost in its new kill. She ran up, over the cats who cried at the one of them who’d been silenced, whose fight was over, and Clarke reached up, her machete going underneath the bear jugular and slicing with all of her heart and strength, she was so desperate for this to just end.

The young Griffin sliced deep, but it wasn't a quick enough kill as the bear threw its dead kill aside to aim its deadly paws her way, and the first shove from the beast led Clarke to know only weightlessness, her mind wondering if this was how her father felt, floating away. 

She hadn't seen him die, she thought to herself between moments, dazed by the blow and airborne, knowing she was destined for sudden painful stop. Clarke was lost in her agony and hallucinating strange vroom vroom noises, her mind now lost in the few moments before impact, she for the first time wondered how strange that was that his body was gone from sight so quickly, surely before she'd seem him die.

But her flight was suddenly and violently halted by a rather large tree trunk as a sound Clarke hadn't really heard in real life happened. It was a gunshot, and before she could even process it the bear slipped down in a heap and stilled.

Clarke tried to lift her head, tried to see what happened, the last few minutes becoming a bit hazy in memory. Clarke suspected she had a concussion.

Stubbornly though, as was Griffin nature, she tried to stand and quickly collapsed. She immediately recognized the nearby roaring as human, Bellamy was shouting. He'd likely been for awhile and soon his arms appeared in her hazy vision as he grabbed her shoulders and tried to shake her back into herself as she laid against the tree that stopped her forced flight. 

But she was drawn instead to the sound of a small nose huffing in her ear as she determinately laid on the ground prone, that noise which was quickly replaced by two vying for the predominate smelling position, and the number only grew.

Clarke felt tiny furry bodies began to come over her, and even little ones mewing in her ear, slightly bigger balls of poof trying to burrow under her, so desperately scared for such desperately little innocent things.

Clarke finally opened her eyes, feeling the weight and warmth of the able cats crowding around her. She saw the too still black and brown cat who attacked the great best and was felled by it.

Clarke scanned the clearing they were in, seeing that the bear was as still as it had been when it had fallen, by gunshot. And her eyes raced back to Bellamy before hearing a few cries of pain.

She stood up as quickly as she could without hurting any of the felines that crowded her, half of them immediately imprinted and another third desperately fond., She grabbed bellamy and scanned, prioritizing most injured

The attack must have begun recently, this colony must have been surviving for awhile in sanctuary, judging by the variety of genpool. But the variety implied a larger population. maybe the 100 landing caused the curiosity of larger animals to come their way, invading their once safe home, causing their numbers to be depleted. 

Clarke focused on what could be done. Apart from the fallen cat, likely the alpha, there was just two more injured cats. One had a badly mangled front leg, a silver longhaired short nosed animal, and the other, who had a bad facial injury that mad Clarke doubt the animal would ever see again. That cat was predominantly white, with patches of black, like some cate she saw in a book on the arc. Its ears were also mangled, but nothing matched the terrible sound on its eyes.

She shuffed through her pockets and found what she was looking for, at this point Octavia’s gift felt life a gift, no, a machine of the gods, but she was just grateful use it in this way, never thinking to let the animals suffer to preserve the resource for her people.

She noticed that while the likely blinded animal was halfheartedly pawing its face in shock. the animal who had the body mangled front leg was desperately trying to groom the wound, Its cries of pain tugging at Clark's heart and she stepped to that animal first, uncorking the vial and dropping several seconds worth of fluid into the fabric. She approached the animal, quickly and hopefully not threateningly. The animal stopped its groomed and jerked trying to backstep but putting weight on the limb that would never be able to support that weight again and it failed, making the small creature write and cry in pain.

Clarke reacted, jumping for the animal and flinging it around by the neck to scrough it. Trying not to prolong its agony at having the broken limb jostled, Clarke clamped the fabric she somehow still held over the cats moth, allowit it to gask desperately at the attempt to free itself and flee.

Clarke prayed to gods she had no names for, hoping…

FInally after what was only in reality a few moments the cat stilled. Clarke dared a few more moments with her hand forcefully over the no longer resisting animal, ensuring it was totally out before she quietly set the animal down and then raced to the other animal. Hoping Octavia was also right about the fluid antiseptic properties, Clarke refolded the fabric, poured more floud and held it over the other injured animals face, allowing some fluid to get into the ghastly facial would.

Clarke immediately shed her jacket, urging Bellamy to do the same, gesturing towards the mercifully unconscious animals. 

“We have to take them back to camp, but we can’t just leave the rest of them here alone and defenceless. Bellamy, take these tawo back, find someone who knows a damn about healing, Octavia maybe. She's the one who gave me the stuff she got from the grounders anywa-... Shit.” Clarke cursed, realizing her mistake.

This season on 'All Things Considered". 

“I’m doing this for my family, we need to get to the ground Marcus. They’re alive, I know it. If we just all go, then we’d be together!” She begged, still focused on her goal, really the only plan she had left anymore.

The girl muttered lowly, breathily in her ear, “you could not have come all this way to die, Clarke com Skycrew.”


	11. Late Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating   
>  “’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—   
> Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;—   
>  This it is and nothing more.”  
> The Raven
> 
> Please note, and I mean this honestly, this fic has become a wild beast. I have over sixty pages of only bulliten points as to where I want us to go but somewhere in seeking a segway I've summoned something very chaotic. I started this chapture unsure of what I could even say and sat back hours later barely remembering what I typed. 
> 
> Come now, join. We're all mad here.

A beat went by in the meadow between the two destined leaders. Clarke’s eyes widened in realization of what she said. Bellamy went from zero to one hundred in an instant, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. Clarke hurried to add. “Bellamy, Bellamy please. Yes, the grounders gave Octavia some supplies that she only told me about, we agreed not to tell anyone until we were sure the supplies worked...or did not work." Clarke paused to take in a breath, a more determined and confident air in her tone. "It's a chance, Bellamy, an opportunity we desperately need to test the grounders down here to see if they are our biggest problem or a possible ally." Clarke raised a hand to settle on Bellamy's shoudler, careful notto distrube the blessidly still unconsous animals. "Please, considering seeing this chance, if we use this on these animals and it works… Maybe we can finally trust people, and if it doesn't..” 

Bellamy seeing the sky princess' expression darken, the other she triing to deny how her heart drops at the thought of the suffering that would befale the innocents in his arms Clarke tried to keep her voice neutral and cold, “Then we know what they are willing and capable of, and our people do not suffer for our naive mistake.”

Clarke looks Bellamy over, he was clearly conflicted at being lied to and helping out. As the crowd of cats begins to crowd them once more, she softens her voice and pleads to the heart that she knows Bellamy has, gesturing to the mews and headbutts the tiny creatures were giving them. “Please help these animals and bring back food. I have some to go around, but with this many mouths, it'll only last the night." 

Seeing his conflict at leaving her, she adds in "You gotta get back, I don’t want glares from Murphy for making him worry.”

Bellamy looked to her immediately. He drew back a half meter, feeling a bit of fight or flight response, but Clarke only stared at him clearly, openly, and acceptingly.

Bellamys expression shifts from 'we will talk about this later' to 'we will never talk of this ever' in the span of a blink before Bellamy swears audibly before checking the swathes of the infured animals he carried before running off.

 

Clarins herself alone again, the boy's footsteps quieting, though Clarke considered in the grand scheme of it all that camp wasn't too far away. Out of the reach of the bonfires and tense energy of the camp, her night was quiet and barely lit in moonlight as calm set in again in the meadow. She walked around to various forest debris and fallen branches, making a bit of a nest about two feet by two feet. FInally finding thicker branches to serve as a bit of pen, she set to wrangle the smallest of the bunch to put in the centermost pat. She was searching for the smallest ones just on the edges of her field of vision, darting in a bit of a diameter. She noted amusing, similar to a rodent running game where birds followed the thing as the entire colony seemed to gravitate slowly or quickly to wherever she was at or heading within eyesight. Clarke was distracted, by her sense of duty and the heartwarming determination of her new-

A twick cracked off to her right, and she spun, drawing her blood dried machete, desperately hoping the bear did not have a friend.

A few of the older kittens ran towards the noise, Clarke's heard dropped into her stomach at dread for the fact of the innocently curious. Her mind remember the terrible cries of the brown cat who charge the bear, she didn't know she could ever bear a sight or sound like that again.

Clarke's eyes and nasal area burned as she waited, desperately praying to anything that will listen that the dice that was just rolled wad in her favor. Another kitten, with the shortest legs she’d seen yet darted into the shadows, and Clarke waited to hear their cries of pain. Please no, please, just this once… 

There.

One darted back into her field of vision in almost the same spot as the littlest one darted off from, momentarily relieved, maybe it was just a wayward stray. 

Then she heard human footsteps. She was relieved at first.. Then the frowned, confused, knowing Octavia & Bellamy or someone else would have approached from the opposite direction. 

The reality hit her. This wasn't one of her people Clarke only had a fragile reputation to go on, what to expect. Octavia seemed so sure of the ones she’d met. The mysterious badass chick their own age, and the taller, dark skinned bald muscled warrior. OCtavia went into a bit more description of the guy than Clarke had thought remotely necessary, but she shouldn’t deny.

All of Octavia's descriptions, or gushings, totally matched the figure that stalked up to her from that shadow, kittens at his feet unharmed. In his arms he held two silver younger kittens that she’d missed gathering so far, they too seemed unharmed, judging by their too loud to be physically possibly purring at his scratching of their chin with a ringer each.

Clarke stared at him, failing to hide all of the desperation she felt from displaying on her ace.e. She felt oddly like she was in charge of these animals, she wanted their safety.. She shouldn't help whispering out, a pleading look breaking through her instinctive defensive battle position.

“Please...don't..hurt them.” Clarke begged, starting at the man. “Lincoln, right?” 

He looked back at her shaking off the calming feeling of the deceptively small rumbling coming from the two contented kittens and he took in her words, immediately frustrated that Oktavia spoke of him, apparently. But she’d also spoken of this girl, he was reasonably sure.

He nodded back at her, “I believe Oktavia come Trikru also spoke of you, the skiprisa of these people, Klarke?” He asked freely, still petting the animals, trying to radiate only peace.

 

The eye of fate blinked and looked again to the sky, observing how things had progressed focusing instantly on a quiet room holding a troubled man.

It happened days ago, but it seemed like an instant before, still in shock that he and they would have to pull the lever together to end half the Arc's population. Half of their people, their friends... to remain in the sky for any foreseeable future. This terrible reality was just as jarring and numbing as it had been the last few night cycles he’d sat awake. He couldn't dwell on the specifics, after hearing them explained by all the relevant minds on the Arc. Now, there was just the reality. What she did, what they had to do now.

Kane sat in front of his window, successfully not thinking about the events, but feeling them. Disgust and tragedy, he could barely believe the gallant Griffin Matriarch could do such a thing. But then, she such an unremorseful blank expression as she was locked up with the very few others who were destined to be floated quickly, and sometimes but especially in her place, quietly. 

The view from his seat was expansive and humbling, such importance out there and he was just there, reacting to his tiny corner of it all. He mused dejectedly, over his Green moonshine, that maybe she was getting off too lucky. Without pain or uncertainty, or even the certainty that the end was coming for them all. It was the worst act of terror any of them ever experienced. Abby the murder, angel of death..

Yes, Kane rued sadly, because of Griffin, their time in the sky was coming to an end very soon.  
How could you..

Unable to handle his thoughts alone any longer, he quickly dressed passed his night cycle clothes and snuck down to where Griffin was being held, where there was an actual guard post formation. This area wasn't often utilized. But then again, it was not often a member of the council committed mass terrorism.

Marcus Kane approached the doctor’s secure cell, motioning for the guards to leave.

Abby was quiet, too silent to be sleeping, and Kane found himself at the bars in her door, the only opening to her cell.

“Even Jake wouldn’t recognize the monster you've become. Even Clarke would not forgive this if she was still alive either.”

And finally, a reaction. Or a snarl.

Abby felt herself emitting a frustrated but still desperate growl and at up from where she was laying. “I’m doing this for my family Marcus, we need to get to the ground. They’re alive, I know it. If we just all GO, then we could all be together!” She pleaded into the dark quietly, maybe not even aware anymore of Kane outside her cell, so still focused on her goal, the only thing she had left anymore.

 

Things were a bit more volatile a bit over, horizontally speaking (not vertically, in this case).   
Raven was shaking, playing a very convincing role of someone utterly sick and (more importantly) possibly contagious. WIth the very recent event of their main doctor being arrested massive property damage/loss of life-support, it was easy for her to just beg some time off. Considering how damn fast this was all happening.

Or, at least, that's what she told herself when her boss seemed to have a bit of a quiet aneurysm at the thought his protege level zero-g mechanic being off after the biggest crisis possible happened. In a moment of panic she curled up on herself while standing, arguing with they guy, discreetly showing a finger into the back of her throat. She wobbled to hide her gag and reeled forward to vomit all over her boss of her admittedly short adult life.

He didn’t even blink, or maybe the poor guy couldn’t. His entire being seem shocked, frozen in reality. FInally it broke as he bellowed in disgust, shouting slipped explicatives. After her trailed off, losing his voice once more again to reality he an off, and a few beats later Raven ran off in the other direction through corridors doing the same. She noted with a great deal of nausea and humiliation that the once crowded room evacuated behind her as the shock of what everyone, seriously everyone, was dissipated by the smell of bile and vomit in the workroom.

Raven hurled herself out of that suffocating reality down the corridor, walking almost at a running paec desperate for any semblance of a cool breeze on her face. She immediately ran for the closest shower. Feeling gross for what she made herself do, but more so on the reality of what was happening with Abby. THis was the second time someone gotten caught instead of her, and Raven felt herself drawing parallels between Finn and Abby. Inebriated with adrenalin, and perhaps worst of all, a sense of duty Raven nodded to herself,. She would rescue ABby, they’d get to the ground, and that would atone for all of her shit.

The eye of fate twitched, wondering what might have been if only Raven had let this one go as well.

 

But mouse-friend, you are not alone  
in proving foresight may be vain:  
the best-laid schemes of Mice and Men  
go oft awry,  
and leave us only grief and pain,  
for promised joy!


	12. Two kinds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Preacher looked at him, impressed. “You dug out of hell with your hands?”
> 
> “It’s not that far,” The other man says, in a tone that still makes me shudder.

AN: Hello precious reader. I hope things are going great for you, if not… drop me a line if you think no one else would listen.

Anywho, I’d like to take a moment to do a behind the scenes bit if y’all don't mind, considering we just hit over 20k words! And the crazy part is that this is still basically writing the prologue to the story I want to tell, because I’m desperately trying to give it depth. (ugh, I know, broken record at this point.) I realise that in my attempts to focus on different things might mean I get choppy or flat in my story telling. (future edit, chapters get much longer from here on out. 

Look, I’m not new to fanfiction. I'm sure most of you lot are more experienced than I am, but I've always been into things that were more erotic besides anyway. I figured I'd write some cool things and have a bunch of sexy time stories. But I keep finding myself wanting to add certain dramatic elements, or go into a character or possibility I did not realize I wondered about.

This story is taking a mind and spirit of its own. It wants to be told a certain way, I've never understood that concept before, but I do now. I hope these do not seem like filler stories about people that did not "matter" in the original canon. Seemingly focused on side characters you could make the leap that this is all a bit diluted (at its worst) but.. To restate, this story is it's own beast. It wants to say things before we get to cuddles and smut. I'm only sorry because I know sometimes it's hard to get that story you haven't read a dozen times before to get that itch going.

If you need me to address the elephant cat colony in the room I now will. (cats the size of elephants or elephants the size of cats?) If you'd rather I'd just get on with it, scroll down to the story bit. Otherwise, here's where I'm at.

Basically while writing the early chapters of this story IRL I was trying to trap and rescue a roaming kitten near my house. It was a really stressful situation that played out over a few days, days that I decided to go off script as I worked on this. Even as I stood out there AFK, trying to coax the little thing away from the road I knew I must use that as inspiration for a new possibility here. An added ‘all things considered’ which was itself an amazing lightbulb moment.

Anywho. animals are my life, and so it really weighed on me before I finally found its owner, a metalhead stoner lol. So I imagined the possibilities. Feral cat colonies pop up everywhere IRL. Basing on actual documentaries including Life After People (go check that out if that does not ring a bell), cats would do just fine after or without us. So hey, let's just throw a colony of cats in, bearly shaken not stirred, and see what happens.

heh.

OOC? Maybe that would be a good thing. Together we get to contrast the dark brutal world with literal fuzzy kittens. Don't we idealistic fans deserve something like that? Can't we once yearn for something to be okay? Be assured that any slight, harm, or hurt to these creatures will be met with the punishing wave of fate, the eye of fate narrows the deepest at animal cruelty.

The real world is a terrible and cruel place, so with my limited power I create a reality where finally, something stills the strike of apathy and cruelty to animals. Just this once, just in this one place.

You might be concerned that all will turn to fluff? Hah. It certainly will not.

 

Also my icon change is a huge sneaky easter egg to the after part of this story, or what I originally wrote for the story. It's the event that closely follows the drop ship landing as the quintessential event in this timeline. Honestly this story is a segway to that new reality. It's where the best bits are. Magic! Blue Bo- Well, nevermind that. Read on friends!!

Also, they're all Munchkin kittens in case you didn’t catch that line. Might be relevant.)

This mini chapter is a thank you for encouraging my bit of madness.    :)

 

Steam filled the room as an olive skinned girl leaned against the wall weakly just letting the water wash over her. _What have I-no, what have we done…Abby..._

What Abby would float for.

“I can't... live with this. I-” Raven shuddered out, losing her voice mid sentence, slumping down in the shower as the water streaming down on her. Raven felt exhaustion and the lapse in guilty adrenalin slip from her system as she blessedly slipped into unconsciousness, firmly shutting her eyes away from the straight razor on the nearby counter, begging any thoughts to go away before she would be forced to act on them.

 

 

It only took a few minutes in a steady sprint, but it was longer than Bellamy Blake remembered, the distance from the dropship to that clearing. His hands cradled his cargo wrapped in the swathes around him.

This entire thing was totally insane, but he had something to carry out and Bellamy numbingly reveled in the obvious duty.

Bellamy darted through the same trees and shrubs that he and Clarke had stalked through moments or a lifetime before. lawfully running into the camp, he suddenly found himself colliding into the one agent of chaos that he was looking for. Being that he was quite literally running into her, he impressively had the mind to turn what he held in his arms away from the impact at the last second, still they made similar “oooh” noises of air being crushed out of them..

He raised both arms to grip Octavia's shoulders, his eyes narrowing intensely, “Grab friends, and go out that way.” He gestured where Clarke would be with this ridiculous new reality they were faced with.

Octavia knew her brother, better than anyone… well, 'maybe almost anyone baring...'nevermind that,' shaking her head of the thoughts, noticing immediately that he was carrying...something…Octavia looked at him like she really had no idea what he was on about, which was fair.

As if summoned somehow a few beats later Murphy appeared by Bellamy's side. Octavia raised a surprised eyebrow, she hadn’t even heard the boy coming and she was getting pretty good at that sort of stuff.

 

Murphy had been on a tense watch since Bellamy barked the order at him earlier in the night. So now all his attention was on the male Blake. Murphy didn't even acknowledge Octavia before he inspected whatever was in the clothes, find an answer that posed more questions he looked back up to meet Bellamy's eyes, trust but concern present in Murphy's expression. Murphy though, more observant of Bellamy physically, noticed immediately how Bellamy was slightly curled around the bundles he carried in dual swaths around his fit torso and considered the most likely answers. He unwittingly let a small heartwarming smile aimed at Bellamy, calling out the others gentle nature that the male Blake took so much effort to shield. Bellamy tried to scrunch up his face in tough manliness but Murphy thought it was closer to a stubborn pout that dissolved into a sheepish grin.

To Bellamy, the reality of his sister only a foot or so away was fading out and fuzing at the edges. He lifted his hands to grab the straps wrapping the animals swaddle around him. Lifting it while straining his arms only at the awkward angle, he lifted it over head head and over Murphy's, settling the animals with him as Murphy's hands instinctively reached for his full hands.

He pushed Murphy and the cargo that boy just realized he was carrying towards the area they’d been using as a makeshift med bay. He turned to Octavia and ordered, “do a quick run and find anyone who seemed to be skilled at healing, or just the smartest of the lot and send them our way. Then you find a half dozen kids you trust and go meet up with Clarke. That way, straight shot. Not far." And he gestures across his body to the direction he had come from before turning walking off. After a moment he pauses and turns back, a smile on his face and adds. "On, and take some scraps of meat. There are hungry things out there. You’ll love it.” Bellamy said, a bit of bemusement on his face that confused Octavia.

She didn’t understand what was going on at all. Minutes ago Bellamy had burst out of the darkness, almost knocking her down. And further more, he seemed to be holding bundles to his chest protectively. She did not really have a frame of reference to compare it to so Octavia Blake only nodded obeying at her brother's note to bring some scraps of food for something. Her brother seemed concerned for whatever was out there, and didn't imply Clarke or her would be in danger. She was being sent out into the woods with too many questions, no real answers, and a bagfull of jerky. Octavia was having trouble remember what an ordinary day even was anymore.

 

Raven woke up only a couple hours later, and soon found herself standing and wincing at her bruised and knotted muscles as she caught her own bare reflection in the mirror.

She wasn't sure what she was looking at, when she looked back at her own reflection now. Everything was moving too fast, too much for her engineer self. Sure she was chaotic, but plans were still important, recipes, standard operating procedures. Floating fuck, even some damned envelope that held some doomsday guide, probably named Albion or some nonsense. Regardless, There should be a well practised plan and theory, time to conduct and rethink. There was no time here. So she did what she did and helped Abby, and now.. 'God, so many people could die. Abby.. what if she was wrong,' she thought in a panic. 'No, not Abby. She can't do what Finn did, it had to be different..'

Maybe things could have been okay, all things considered, if Raven hadn't continued in her thoughts and decided what she did..

 

“Only friendliness produces friendship. And we must look far deeper into the soul of man for the thing that produces friendliness.” G.K Chesterton, author of All Things Considered.

 

 

AN. Please note that throughout our journey from 20k to 30k I will be going back and editing all chapters, not only to fix my many amataur grammar, but flushing out unfinished potential I'd overlooked in my rush to post. I'll give ya a heads up when I'm done, but the update notification part might be a bit confusing for a bit.


	13. Good Guys?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello beautiful reader <3 I hope it makes you cheerful to know that each Kudos and Review really keep me going with this. I've worked on this chapter and the next more than anything I've written so far. Getting to the point of the story I've been aching to tell is rough! Anyway, this is a bit of the arc followed by the 100 coming into the reality. Once again, this might seem like fluff. The calm before the storm usually does.
> 
> Arc. Kitten clearing.

A thinner, olive skinned man with dark brown eyes, and black hair picked up an electronic device, sanded down a few times, and scanned his finger over the display, reloading statistics he didn't want to acknowledge and sighed to himself. Jackson was anxiously fuming over this new power and responsibility forced on him. He hated that he was somehow the next in line for Abby’s spot. He didn’t need this, being stressed out for the rest of his possibly short life. For once he was grateful he did not have a family to keep in mind.

Promotions were punishments during terrible times like these, and everything he was seeing and hearing was defiantely a herald of terrible times.

He realised that the three other men in the room were expectantly waiting for him to add his opinion. He weakly stuttered out, "CO2 and methane are heading to red levels... Medical.. We are overwhelmed Dozens reporting dizziness, fatigue, and vision problems. "

Marcus Kane just sighed in response, "I know how they feel…" taking a double breath, gasping slightly in effort.

Sinclair also shows labored breathing. The doctor in the room, Jackson handed out oxygen masks.

Kane takes one after hesitating, taking a few minutes to don and adjust the gear. He breathes in the oxygen, and while filtered, a sense of sad acceptance filters through the mask. “ Is this what It comes to?”

Charles Pike, snorted through his mask, having immediately donned it upon being offered but not adding a verbal remark.

The last man in the room, Jaha seems to agree with Marcus because he tries to refuse. "No. I'm not gonna take more than my share. We start choosing who gets extra O2 and were one step closer to choosing who lives and who dies."

Kane’s eyes darken, as his demeanor freezes. “That's what we need to discuss, I know the council previously approved by population reduction plan days ago, but we need to consider a much bigger… loss.."

The three look back to him, playing and looking horrified. Pike seems to soak it in, expression opening in awe.

Kane continues, "Right now, as terrible as that seemed in theory, It won’t matter now. The number needs to be much higher, for any time at all to be useful. After that we have a few months at best.. But it’s time to think of something, we need time to have a chance.”

Jaha knows the emotion seeping into Kanes voice means that this will be very bad."How many?"

 

Kane sighs trying to keep his unemotional mask on as he spits out, "nine hundred and twenty people will be excised from the grid."

Jackson started, raising his voice in outrage. "No, murdered, Kane . Nine hundred and twenty people will be murdered."

Kane waves him off an a too idealistic bug in his ear, holding up the tablet that Jackson had thrown down moments before. "Look at those numbers. Every hour that passes we put more people in danger."

Jackson breathed out realization seeping in, his breath catching as he slowly whispered, “How could she have done this? She knows that to survive, we would have to kill half of us?”

Kane sighed, "She believes that the ground is the answer, and she is willing to do anything to make us see that...And that trust is going to kill her and over nine hundred people. More dead. More of our own."

Jaha looks back at him, clearly trying to fight off a dangerous emotion such as hope. "We can’t consider the ground for sure..All communications were lost with the 100 sent to the ground..”

Seeing a desperation in Kane’s eyes, realization dawns on Jaha’s, and eventually Jackson. Pike had figured it out pretty early on.

Jaha breathes out, barely louder than a whisper. “You think that’s our only option anyway, don’t you?”

The baited silence of their new reality is all that answers him.

 

Clarke was still on the ground with the smallest of the lot when Lincoln had been coming back from another sweep. The blonde wasn’t sure why she trusted this strange guy so much, perhaps it was because she has already heard of in a positive if not smitten way. Everything felt like a strange dream, too alien to have a reference point to anchor it to reality. She was just trying to keep up at this point. And Octavia had been so sure, so sure that these people were important to survival down here. It was her desperation, and Clarke’s novice but instinctual drive that led to to err on the side of friendship, even if it damned them all. ‘I'm not a princess, I'm not a diplomat, I’m just expected to make the hard choices.’

Thankfully, though it hurt her heart to admit, this was a relatively low risk situation. If he turned violent or savage then it wasn’t her people at risk yet. Just the innocent cats she’s found and rescued. Her hearing was still a bit wonky after the firearm going off so close to her. It was a wonder no one at camp reached from that alone, but she mused that since no one had likely heard such noise before, they might brush it off as another weird thing that happened on the ground.

 

Lincoln was almost sure that they found the entire colony, it didn't seem they managed to get far before being overtaken by the bear. He had an ally and sovereign nearby, he knew she was still there because every so often she would approach and drop a wayward kitten at his feet and then wordlessly stalk off. He Noted that she always seemed to walk back towards where Lake was.

Picking up on her not subtle hint at discretion, he did not reveal her presence. The light that the stars and moon usually gave were muted, and Lincoln feared that would signal rainfall. He was bringing these last two to Clarke and was about to set out when he heard a rustle as he stepped into the clearing where Clarke was, she looked back at him, unconcerned by the intruders. He stopped, shifting the weight of his cargo to his shield arm as he put his hand on the hilt of his dagger in anticipation. Then he heard the chatter of people, and they called for Clarke.

It didn't take Octavia and those she brought with her to find the clearing that Bellamy gestured towards. But it felt like ages.

Jasper interrupted the silence a few times, polling the others on what they thought was out here. He’d begun asking Octavia if this was related to the sharp bang they’d heard just a little bit earlier in the night.

Even though it was only a few minutes walk, according to Bellamy, Octavia was anxious to find out whatever was going on. They’d only been on the ground a short amount of time, but she already felt like things were never going to be the same, and that was wicked exciting. She knew those behind her agreed.

Miller, Bryan, Monroe, and Jasper (who’d invited himself after Monty was pulled away to the med tent for mysterious reasons) all eagerly accepted her call to adventure. She made it clear it might be nothing, or that it could be interesting.. And after that, and the notion Clarke might need their help. She called to them as they set out, “Probably not too dangerous,she just needs us knights in shining armor.” And though that might not have been all that long ago, Jasper really knew how to make a second last a night cycle.

Just as Jasper was relating older western movies he’d seen on the arc, a clearing came into their line of sight, and Octavia breathed a sigh of relish at Jasper’s incredulous silence. They were all a bit amazed. When they broke the line of trees, there was a giant animal lying still on the ground, a few prone animals, but almost two dozen tiny little creatures were there, now looking to her as the interesting thing of the hour. And there Clarke was, in the middle of it.

“Hey Princess, how’s it go- uhhhh..” Her brain, already confused by the small furry things, promptly shorted out as she saw him standing there off to the side, further away. Fuzzy things forgotten, Octavia was currently trying to stem off sense of arousal flooding her entire body.

“Hello again.” Lincoln mused, daring to take a few steps toward her before tilting his head in invitation.

OCtavia grabbed the jerky she’d brought from her knapsack, setting her bag down to open it first. Trying to stay focused on not stammering or looking like an idiot in front of Lincoln, Octavia was nevertheless undeniably distracted. She left her bag open on the ground (first mistake) and she rustled around for the couple of handfuls of food that they’d just dubbed jerky.

At the first whiff of food, Octavia was swarmed. She stood as Lincoln offered her the animal in his arms.

 

Lincoln was pleased to see Oktavia approach him. He freely handed the most recent find he’d encountered, the last one she gave to him before disappearing into the shadows again. This particular cat was an older long haired cat, clearly left behind to save the younger ones. Her Fur was matted, and she had a few scars on her face She was all black, but gray and white dotted her face and body as time took its toll. He paused to let his hands cup hers. Heeling her warmth. He di not that she seemed nervous.

Lincoln leaned over in a strange soft dough cough. He paused, as if waiting for something else to happen, then he straightened up again and smiled a bit more loosely to Oktavia. Lincoln looked to her warmly, if not a bit heated, and a respectful face washed over his true one. He looked back to Lake and spoke. “Now that your friends have arrived to help move these back to your camp, perhaps one or two could help me search for any lost or hurt in the area before I return to my people?.”

A few feet away Miller was trying to dislodge an ambition silver flat nose kitten from the base of his spine. The kitten had an urge to seek higher ground as quickly as possible. Or maybe it was attempting to foul this terrible beast. Either way, it was infinity or beyond for this wondrous little kitten who’d begun to think of himself as Ted Nugent.

Lincoln means to do a very wide sweep, hopefully drawing attention away from his Heda who was back in the trees waiting. He really shouldn't be condoning this sort of behavior, and perhaps he was putting a bit more effort into being helpful because Heda seemed invigorated by helping the SkyKru out, again.

As Lincoln carefully looked away, seeming to scan the area around him, and possibly finding the perch of..someone..

Octavia looked at Clarke with wide and pleading eyes, Clarke held in a laugh and nodded her permission. Later she would blame it on the endorphins of being surrounding by purring. Much later she would cite her insight and foresight. So Oktavia stepped forward, elderly feline in her arms, and followed Lincoln off into the shadows. Clarke called after them to check in later, or Bellamy would have her head on a pike outside of the drop ship.

Dual laughs signaled that they had head.

The remaining kids stood staring at the retreating backs of Octavia and that strange guy who really hadn’t paid them any attention at all. Luckily Octavia was basically a social butterfly and had previously clued them in on there being locals and that they weren’t going to hurt them, probably.

Nathan watched the tall dark man go a few beats longer than everyone else did. Miller rolled his eyes noticing, and jabbed him in the sides. “You’re so predictable!” He snarked to his boyfriend, good naturedly.

Nathan shrugged and turned back, leaning in for a quick peck on the lips that had an edge of purring underneath it. Nathan added, under his breath “You’re the only type for me.” Miller blushed and turned his attention back to the silver kitten who’d almost gotten to the top of his head, if the painful scratches were anything to go by.

A rustling of bushes heralded the entrance of a woman dressed in a similar style to the man who’d just left with Octavia. Clarke looked to where Lincoln and Octavia went off, the two most helpful people now out of eyesight. She looked back at their new girl, taking her in again. She was paler than Lincoln, more similar to her, not that she cared. This girl was average height, slim, with a high forehead, full lips, and a youthful face. She had a band of eye-paint running across her eyes.

Clarke immediately strode to in front of the furthest cat who was licking a scratch on its flank. Clarke looked it over in an instant and decided it could wait until this new person was dealt with. She tried to portray an honest and open expression. “Lincoln of the Tree Crew is a friend to us, hope you are as well. For the safety of my people and these animals... I don’t know your customs, but I hope that the offering of my hand in friendship for my people is welcome?”

Clarke offered her hand and forearm out to this striking girl, who looked her over for a moment, and Clarke felt warmer, more nervous than she thought she would at meeting these people for the first time herself. Clarke always felt more interested in the fairer gender. Lincoln was attractive. But nothing compared to this new unknown girl.

This girl seemed to bite her lip in conflict, then she tenderly reached for Clarke's arm, gripping at her forearm.

“Merry meet, Skiprisa, Klarke com SkyKru.” And Clarke was sure she heard her name within the strange words and nodded happily, lost in this gorgeous girl who seemed to take a moment to realize she had not introduced herself.

This insanely gorgeous girl spoke lowly with a heat Clarke had never head. “I cannot speak for my people, but I.. would like to be friends.. I am..my name is Heda..”


	14. Be Kind, Always

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “In good time he was to discover that he was mistaken about Charlotte. Underneath her rather bold and cruel exterior, she had a kind heart, and she was to prove loyal and true to the very end.”  
> ― E.B. White, Charlotte's Web

Clarke thought for a fleeting moment that the other girl hesitated as she spoke her name, but was so easily distracted by the heat that this gorgeous girl’s profile set within her that Clarke couldn't help but focus on how perfectly sultrily this girl looked. Her braided brunette hair and dark eye paint over her upper face. She was wearing dark clothes, with flexible, tailored dark leather armor over her shoulders. She had a thick belt with many pouches and two sheaths, one for a short sword and one for an ornamental dagger, judging by the complex design it its helt.

Looking back to her braids, Clarke felt something in her gut pulling her in. There was something about this girl. Perhaps it was meeting such a new (new!) and Clarke felt a rush of heat spread over her as this girl seemed to return the CW smoulder, roaming over Clarke in return. So heated that it made Clarke feel as if she was a cornered animal, the end inevitable. Heda's momentary look of open lust was quickly hidden behind a much more docile expression. the natural shift made Clarke narrow her eyes for a moment, sure that this new face wasn’t what the girl was truly feeling. This girl immediately broke the silence and tension, indeed the others in the clearing were staring back at her, waiting.

“Heda,” she repeated again, saying it calmly and casually. “I was scouting with Linkoln Com TriKru and he wandered off. I just saw him leave with one of your people.” Her voice lowered in intimidation. To get her trust quickly, she had to divert her. She was holding back her commander spirit, only being as threatening as any of her grounders, but her eyes alighted in a bit of mischief that even dialed down, it would be enough for these soft people. Heda reached out to grab the blonde’s forearm and nodded once repeating her name. “I know you Klarke com Skykru.” And Clarke's eyes fluttered only a bit, she hoped before he thoughts caught of with her.

“How?” She breathed, not wanting to let go of Heda's arm, her hand felt terribly right. Heda held her arm for a moment before gently pulling back, her fingers caressing her arm eliciting a shiver that Heda sought to repeat.

Raising an eyebrow playfully, “Is this truly the first time Linkoln has helped, especially with Oktavia com Skykru?” and the most delicious half smile hitting on her beautiful face.

While looking at Klarke movement summoned her attention. The slinky black haired black cat with ears so large mewled out a heartbreaking cry and stressfully grooming the mortal wounds of the fallen brown and black cat. Heda forgot all else, shortly drawn over.

It was more often than not that Heda was expected to act emotionlessly, a cold and calculating leader. But preciously rarely was she was faced with a low risk, high reward tug at her long denied heart.

Clarke stiffened only for a second where rejection washed over her, as Heda strode away to where the poor creature lay at rest. Then it dawned through guilt as she realized what drew Heda. She slowly walked over after a few moments, waving off her friends who only looked away for a moment out of curiosity, then back to her. Rapt.

Clarke approached the crouched brunette, murmuring the story of what happened, “A bear attacked these animals. My people came upon them just as this brave little one lept at the bear as it lunged for its pack.” Heda nodded once as if this only confirmed what she already knew, Clarke wasn't sure how that would be possible. The blonde didn't pay attention to realize that the other girl did not ask, or encourage, but she wasn’t obviously waved off. Heda half heard the words, instead feeling the story of what the scene suggested happened as she and Linkoln arrived after the battle had been found, and for one, lost. She felt a kinship with the fallen animal, knowing that she would share a similar fate one day. Clarke's words only further drove the emotion home. 

“I hope you will have a wonderful year, that you'll dream dangerously and outrageously, that you'll make something that didn't exist before you made it, that you will be loved and that you will be liked, and that you will have people to love and to like in return. And, most importantly (because I think there should be more kindness and more wisdom in the world right now), that you will, when you need to be, be wise, and that you will always be kind.”  
― Neil Gaiman

Settling down on the ground with her back to a tree next to the prone body, Heda brushed her right hand over the cat's face and muttered softly, “moba, yu gonplei ste odon.” Her movement lowered the glased but infinite eyes down, patting her cheek twice before just running a hand down the cat's body, muttering more words that no one else could make out. 

While the brunette had been focused on the still brown cat, and everyone else in the clearing focused on the brunette, the black cat rose to its short stature and shivered, then crawled into her lap without hesitation as if she’d always belonged here. Turning only once, the small adult cat settled down with her front paws and head stretching out forward to rest on its chin on brown cat as best it could, seeking comfort while continuing to mourn in its own way. Heda simply lifted her other hand it slowly pet the cat pitifully laid in her lap almost like dead weight. There was a low, sad rumble coming from the throat of the black cat as it gazed with half open and troubled eyes at her lost companion.

It felt like a spell, and Clarke felt the minutes stretched by as everyone dared not shatter the silence, waiting on this mysterious ethereal girl to realise them again.

A long few moments later the same brunette looked back up to Klarke speaking firmly, “I will stay here, go now, take the animals back to the safety of your camp, contain them until you secure their sustainable safety.” She spoke, using words she’d picked up ages ago in education. They seemed a bit formal, but it would do.

Clarke turned, trying to push the heart wrenching view of this girl caring for the animal she herself saw fall. She looked to her friends. Miller and Bryan were failing to peel the youngster kittens from each others backs, their welcoming nature apparently attracting at least half of the smaller ones. More kept walking their way, curious and brave about these new opportunities. 

Jasper stood off to the side, scowling at the cats who approached him and booped and nuzzled his legs. Seems they love someone who wasn't interested, Klarke mused to herself, looking to the last of the crew, Monroe who just looked back, face impartial, awaiting whatever was asked of her. Clarke mused that Monroe was definitely a yes woman, and could prove a good guard. She nodded to them, “we move out with these and Monroe and I will try to grab any that follow. If we move suddenly, hopefully the others won't try to follow and get loose.”

So they waiting a bit, till those not already in their arms were distracted, then darted off towards the camp. Returned and repeat. So the night went on, and Heda never moved from her vigilance of the remaining cats, nor did the black cat in her lap ever move. They seemed living statues, Clarke didn't even want to blink. She wondering if that cat would follow her of or stay, so instantly familiar to Heda.

Back at camp the brainiacs and Bellamy easily agreed that they needed to secure the animals in the drop ship before planning out anything beyond that. While the older cats seemed to get a bit restless at being cooped up, the younger and smaller kittens seemed social, content to soak up the attention of those waking up to the news and optimism of having pets.

The moon passed a bit in the sky, and the darkness seemed to be breaking a bit, everyone who’d been awake since it started sighed with the weary reality that dawn was approaching. 

Clarke wasn't sure they'd saved and brought back all of the colony, the amount they’d secured back at camp was only a bit over a dozen. She was sure there had been more. Heda sworn that she'd spoken to Lincoln and Octavia and a few other night owls while Clarke had been in transit to or from camp. She’s met a few who sworn to her that they'd search through the night into the morning, when others could take over. When CLarke finally returned alone to the empty clearing where only Heda and her charges remained, she invited her back to camp. they could bury the brown cat among her people, where her colony would live now.

Heda rose up, first effortlessly lifting the small but long black cat to drape around her shoulders, the cat finding purchase on her wider shoulder armor. Clarke stepped forward and lifted the other, the lifeless animal into the others girls arms, which she took with a dutiful nod. Heda tilted her head to where the black cat laid comfortably, not even opening an eye to it shoulders up to head butt Heads cheek. Heda closed her eyes for a moment in contentment and murmured what might have been a purr, before opening her yes halfway and saying. ‘Klarke, this is Ar’in.” 

The blonde looked to her in awe and nodded dumbly before saying quietly, gently and, “Beautiful…” She responded, a sudden blush betraying her intent. She stuttered, trying to cover up her slip, “If-f you are read..uhh. C-camp is just this way.” She hurried off, embarrassed to be breaking the serious moment with hero worship. Saving herself, she missed the warm appreciative half smile of Heda/

The confused but invigorated pulse of the dropship camp froze as the two girls wordlessly made their way back into the thick of it, Clarke gave those who approached them shakes of her head, silently asking them to ask again later, gesturing to the lifeless cat in the Heda’s arms. 

So sturdy and determined was Heda’s gait that the cat on her shoulders, Arin's, everyone obeyed.

The open her eyes at this situation and watch it silently, her large ears the only sign she took notice her environment around her. Clarke went to where she hoped she find what she needed. Stepping into where she knew most of the measly medical supplies were, she found Bellamy and Monty, whose eyes widened at the picture of the grounder warrior draped in two cats. 

Taking n the state of the one in her arms, Bellamy quietly but purposefully left the tent, returning only a few minutes later, his paled demeanor and sweaty appearance the biggest signs of his exhaustion. Clarke could only imagine the stress of stabilizing the two most injured animals. He had a small work shovel in his hand, and a question he already had the answer to on his face.

Clarke just stared sadly, burdened but nodded in assent. “With Charlotte, with those we couldn't save.” Taking the shovel, she turned with a grateful but heavy smile and gestured Heda back out. 

Heda paused before following Klarke, eyeing the boys critically, and muttered in an unexpectedly warm voice. “Muchof Belomi.” She said, and nodded to Monty before turning and following the girl.

Not remotely out of earshot, Heda heard the unknown boy mutter, “Clarke must be working some hell of body language if that grounder doesn't even speak english.” Heda’s mouth turned up slightly. Only a stride ahead of her, Clarke was grateful to have her back to Heda, her face heated in betrayal of the words as well but she couldn’t know this was the second time she missed something she’d rather have caught.

“When the words appeared, everyone said they were a miracle. But nobody pointed out that the web itself is a miracle."  
"What's miraculous about a spider's web?" said Mrs. Arable. "I don't see why you say a web is a miracle-it's just a web."  
"Ever try to spin one?"  
-Charlotte’s Web

 

Heda followed Klarke along the path, not questing but following the spirit within her that this was the right path. When they approached a clearing with a small sapling over fresh soil, Heda knew they’d reached her charge’s resting place. She approached Klake who stared back, biting a lip in apprehension and fear of rejection. Heda continue to close in on her, close enough to to embrace her. . Not only that, only with Heda leaning her shoulder holding the feline's head, Ar’in on her shoulders opened her eyes and somehow knew to rise up and slink over to step over and onto Clarke’s shoulders, curling around them similarly but curling around her a bit more to make up for the loss in area. 

Clarke raised a hand, mostly to assure herself that this cat was secure, and the black (siamese-ish) cat merely nuzzled into her hand, quilting CLarke to remain petting it as Heda dug a small grave. It seemed like only a very long moment had passed before it was done. “Yu gonplei ste odon.” She repeated, looking to the innocently and open confusion on Klarke’s face, she spoke again but in english. “Your fight is over.” 

Clarke approached her, hugging her even though Heda did not raise her arms to return to gesture, but she did not wave her off and Clarke considered that important. Ar’in soundlessly crawled back over to Heda, settling down in an instantly familiar and secure spot around her shoulders. They walked back into the camp together, a stride apart, CLarke walking to the makeshift medical area and retuning the shovel to the first person she saw. It ended up being Monty, and he had something to hand back.

While they were busy, it seemed at least a dozen of the kids wordlessly volunteered to work through the rest of the night, taking care of the injured or hurt cats, caring for the ones in captivity now, or just searching in the woods for any who fell through the cracks.

The 100 could certainly relate.

Those who were focused on getting everything secured and in order did not push anyone to assist, comfortable in their small but determined numbers. Schedules were casually made and everyone went off to do their own bidding. Each encouraged the remaining party to drink and be merry, promising they would do the same later when more woke up for the day, and they (especially Monty and Jasper) expected not a lick of judgment for daydrinking. Monty had used some of the concentrated stuff to treat the wounds on the two injured cats, but he made an early appearance to a few of the groups mingling around a few flasks of of something he’d been working on in the past few days, diluted and flavored. Idle hands of genius and all that…

Tension of these last few weeks in this sudden and lonely reality was cracking away. The goodwill of having affectionate creatures to lessen the stud of it all was relished. Oktavia’s earlier words echoed in Heda, these people were cast out. Excilled for a reason she couldn’t yet figure out. But the puzzle captured her interest, somehow not driving her to suspicion. Her instincts taught her to be suspicious of any offered drink, and she’s only pretended to drink from the offered flask before minute passed when CLarke clearly partook and suffered no ill effects. This strategy left Klarke a bit lost in her cups, or maybe just hanging on as she caught a heated but caware look from Klarke warm eyes.

This girl seemed to notice his linger inquisitive glances and becoming paranoid, pulled Clarke's awm away, which came easily as Clarke admitted to herself that she may have had more than a drink or two in celebration of mass kitten saving.

Clarke on herself sitting further out from the others by a windy area of camp. The brunette had pulled her along, and Clarke just found the entire thing invigorating. They ended up in a rather abandoned section of the outer drop ship. She noticed that the girl possibly deliberately shivered in the night and in Clarke's mildly intoxicated state wrapped her arm around the girl, 

The brunette pretended not to notice ahe she shifted submissively into Clarke's embrace, breaking her aloofness with a bit of a purr nuzzed back into her arms, at this point in had curled up next to them. Her face breathing deeply into Clark's neck. Clarke herself was overwhelmed with sensations. She could feel warm lips on her neck, seeking out and kissing her pulse point before tentatively biting it gently. Clarke breathed out a quiet moan and began to run a hand up and down Her arm, her other hand coming through her hair, pulling not that gently whenever Heda nibbled. Clarke felt heated, she shimmied her hips against Heda's best she could, desperately trying to to relieve the tension. 

TO BE CONTINUED 

“I wish I could write as mysterious as a cat.”  
—Edgar Allan Poe (author, “The Raven”)


	15. The Rest of the World Can Go Hang.

https://s32.postimg.org/wrfbx4qe9/Ar_in.jpg

 

Ar'in perched over Heda's shoulder.

 

 

**Clarke couldn't help it, the low primal hiss that she’d let out. Feeling Heda’s mouth on her collarbone, liking and biting, she could feel it send a lightning bolt of sensation to her core, and she could feel herself getting impossibly wet. It made her so restless as she moved her hands to Heda’s hips, her arms pulled over and up, bringing Heda to top her.  Clarke took a moment to squeeze this amazingly fit girl’s thighs with her hands, affirming that Heda needed to be closer. Even feeling her toned legs separated from her touch by black leather straddling her was almost torture. She could only groan and roll her hips up to grind desperately against Heda. She didn't know this side of eof her that was so wantonly sensitive but she rather liked it.**

 

**Heda felt herself being pulled and she fought her instinct to resist it, not used to being roughly handled, leaning down to attack the other side of her neck, pushing Clarke back and down into the nest they had made.**

**To Clarke, her bright green eyes reminded her of desperate fantasies spun by hopelessness locked away on the arc. eyed her in challenge that was was far too lost to appreciate or acknowledge.**

**Heda pouted when she realized that Klarke was not meeting her gaze but was quickly mollified by seeing Klarke’s eyelids flutter and moans of “Heda, please,” ran over her. As she felt Karlke grind up into her, she let out a groan and pushed back down, meeting and confirming her own arousal.  It was like this warm body was trying to melt into her, she was out of her mind with a sort of fever. Heda found that she quite liked the sight of Klarke’s body writhing underneath her and surprised** **herself by heatedly murmuring out, “Klarke, you are so very interesting.” She found herself indulging this dream rather than retreating to dignified reality. She was used to commanding many and forcing them to respond, but she found that lording over Klarke’s body might be intensely satisfying as well.**

 

**Electricity, like from one of the ones the arc had, but so much more delicious. Clarke was lost, overwhelmed, fascinated, and so many other things.**

 

**Floating fuck the girl wasn't even doing that much but… maybe she was hallucinating off some poison berries or possibly even still on the arc. Stories like this didn't happen and weren’t written. Feeling those deliciously strong hands roam over her side she shuddered clinging a little rougher. Heda bit down and begin to run her hands behind Klarke other ear, brushing and crashing seeking out sensitive nerves, her lips kissing then forming a sensual suction just under her delicate ear.**

  


**He'd pushed Klarke down, losing herself back into this gorgeous unusually blonde in her arms holding her in a desperate move to not lose the feeling of having this girl so close. She pushed her down flat with her shoulders, straddling her hips over Klarke’s hips and she squeezed her legs together while straddling the other, leaning down in effort to excuse her grinding into Klarke’s bundle of nerves. Clarke leaned in to finally kiss the girl.**

 

**Heda was lost over the powerful spirit of this girl, this princess looming underneath her. Klarke was moving and kissing her, and Heda couldn't help but open her mouth to meet Klarke tongue with her own, both desperately trying to taste each other, trying to soak more in. Heda could feel her skin heating and growing sensitive, clothing becoming itchy. She was too far gone, she needed to scrape her nails down Klarke’s flesh and feel her skin flush with need for me.**

 

**“You wear too much, Skyprisa.” Heda purred out lightly, as her hands reached under Klarke's shirt, her fingers trembling as she felt cool flesh and the taunt muscles of Klarke. She was quite fit, Heda noticed. Still she looked to Klarke with an eyebrow raised, seeking permission.**

 

**Clarke moaned at the strange name this girl referred to her as, wishing she knew more of their language. But her thoughts were quickly whisked away as soon as she conceptualized them,as she lost herself. Realizing that this girl had sadistically stopped groping her she opened her eye sto see the question on Heda’s face.**

 

**It seemed like any question she could have had, wanted to ask, would try to ask, dissolved on her face as Clarke answered only with a devilish grin and another roll of her hips upward. Grinding up to meet Heda as her body realized the promise behind the inquisitive stare.**

 

**She'd reached behind her back and fiddled with some straped before her entire top came off. her hands sadly leaving Heda’s side, the pale moonlight catching her naked chest and her stomach flexing and clenching. Clarke was emboldened by the gasp and fluttering eyes of Heda as she looked down at the revelation.**

 

**Heda’s hands immediately sought out Clarke's gorgeous breasts. Charlie moaned as she grabbed, pushing up and squeezing, and she couldn't help but lean in and take one perky nipple into her mouth, her hands roaming over Klarke’s smooth stomach.**

 

**Clarke's hands fingered their way into Heda’s hair as she pulled and moaned she Heads tongue flickered over her too sensitive nipple. It was already too much, Clarke couldn't imagine more contact. She was already so close. As Heda continues her licking and biting, while palming her other breast, Clark's hands roamed down to Hedas own chest.**

 

**Heda noticed the hungry look cloud Clarke's eyes and she groaned, feeling emboldened she grabbed her hands and brought them to her own chest, they continued heatedly making out, palming at each other. Trembling and still astride over her Klarke, she rolled her hips against Klarke's thing and stopped her ministrations. She raised an eyebrow at Klare’s desperate sad mewls of need. Smiling down at her, her hands unsnapped the armor she wore whenever verticalm after that, it was simple work to doff her shirt and wrappings as well.  Lifting her hips off the girl under her, she hungrily reached for the blonde's pants and pulled them down slowly, before swimming out of her own garb. Pulling Clarke's pants off slowly, she paused to kiss and struck the area just behind Clarke's knees, causing her to spray her legs further apart, inviting and begging her for more contact.**

**Heda shuddered with the heavy weight of what she would do for this girl underneath her, wondering if her omission of who she really was and importance would be a betrayal but it was far too late for such meandering.**

 

 

**and it had to be this way, she told herself, begging for just these few moments.**

******But even as she lost herself, she knew. Heda had a terrible epiphany as she lost herself in the throws of passion. She would pull down the stars, topple mountains, anything. Anything to please this girl. Heda was fortified with her thoughts and sunk back into claiming this girl for the night, ‘just one night?’ that terrible voice uttered as she silenced it through heat and rapture.**

**Shifting Clarke over so that her thigh was pressed firmly against her clit and her leg the same for  Klarke, she again reached over to Clarke and began to bite and lick her neck while twisting her hips upward, trying to find friction for her  own frustrated state and trying to twist her leg into Clarke's clit, who was certainly rutting up against her as well..**

 

**Clarke's right hand moved from grabbing at her hip inward, wanting so desperately feel Heda and have Heda feel her to, to relieve some of this tension. Heda’s dominant hand matched Clarke's, following her lead.** **Clarke’s fingers tentatively such purchase between Heda’s legs where it grinded against her thigh, Heda bucked in, feeling for the same spot on Klarke. Suddenly that’s all there was, each mouth biting the neck of the other, marking their passion as the sensations began to run through their veins building up.**

 

**Heda bit her lip, desperately trying to hold back until she took care of Klarke, her pride and spirit focusing her in battle mode.**

 

**Clarke herself wasn't thinking of strategy, or wasn't concerned with expectations because she furiously drove herself against Heads legs chasing the friction and heat she found there, feeling Heads’ smooth skin and rapid heartbeat under her mouth. Her hips and hand lost rhythm as her hand pushed into Heda’s clit, losing technique but gaining a fervor and pressure that held Heda right at her desperately held edge, Clarke was just trying to get off and bring Heda along for the ride.  Pulling her free hand into Heads long braided hair she pulled harshly, attacking her mouth as she drowned her rgasm out on Heda’s tongue.**

**Feeling Clarke tense and then shudder, still ramming on her leg, Heda wondering how any power could be greater than this was her last coherent thought before she tumbled through the door to her own orgasm as well. Heda slumped off to the sid in a heap, slowly licking Klarke’s neck, tasting the sweat and heat on her skin. She felt the rumble of a laugh before Klare breathed out a chuckle. “If you still have energy for that I didn’t do it right.”**

 

**Heda  laughed as her eyes were already closing in content euphoria, Klarke muttering against her neck as she was pulled in close, her arms and legs wrapping over her and securely bring her in closer, wrapping her arms around Klarke taunt stomach, “You did everything right.”**

 

**Heaven was born on the happy giggle and sigh that met her ears as she gave in to the warm darkness that overtook her.**

  
  


**Clarke woke up to the feeling of being watched, but her mind mourned the lose of something. She felt legs tangled up in hers and an arm still strapped around her. She was tense because she could feel the emotions radiating, conflicted and stressed. Clarke wished she could just stay here, pretending to be asleep ignoring reality tugging at her. Unfortunately she couldn't, suddenly Clarke's eyes opened in alarm before resting on the calculating and conflicted face of Heda.**

**Heda knew what she was doing, and she grumpily let out a sigh. She should not have even stayed a few hours she dd, the strategic thing to do would have been to vanish in the night when she’d woken up to holding Klarke in her arms, as now. She should resist just watching this new beautiful girl relaxed in sleep. Heda had never seen someone so, at peace and unguarded. So she stayed, searching for a reason to leave this bed.**  


**Ar’in helped. The sleek black cat seemed to have been busy after leaving her hours before. Scruffing and dragging in two spoiled animals by the scruff of their necks over to a pile of blankets in the corner. Heda watched, solidly distracted from the blinking eyes of the girl who’s been dragged from sleep.**

 

**Heda warmly looked back to Klarke, figuring she’s see her sleeping as just before but was startled to meet the sleep but desperately blue eyes watching the scene as well. A sleepy confused moan escaped Clarke was she begrudgingly shed her idealistic dream.**

 

**“Hello there.” Clarke murdered out still sleeping, hoping to salvage some sort of good will if she played the sexed out innocent role. Clarke curls towards her, sighing happily for a moment before her manner becomes tense, and she thinks she knows why.**

 

**The two girls paused in the moment, happily watching such a simple fruit of their labors. Heda knew that any day could be their last, and it might not matter in the end the lives saved, but it mattered in the moment.**

 

**Sighing resolutely, Heda narrowed her eyes at Klarke “You must not tell anyone of this..”**

 

**Clarke understandably got defensive, realizing that the secret of kittens was not the matter at hand and shuffled back an inch or so before she was stopped by the shabby wall of their lean-to.  “Got someone at home then?” She sleepily snapped back.**

 

**Heda shook her head as she fastened her armor and clothes she doffed before, “that is not what I meant Klarke. I cannot..”**

 

**And something in Klark called her to brush it off, rationalizing the feeling he was no stranger to casual.” Summing up a brave, allof face she looked again to Heda. For a moment her vision clouded ahe she saw herself running towards this girl, as she slowly turned into a wooden sculpture. Clarke shook it off, figuring i to be a moment of post cpital bliss accompanied by still present intoxication.**

 

**The blonde sighs. "Don't mind me.” And distance herself, donning her own clothes and putting up a wall that the brunette was pained to realise she spurned taking on a bit of a strangled face, as if conflicted but relieved.**

 

**“YOu have to leave, you have a commander to report to..” Clarke trailed off, not understanding the confusion and the resolution flit across her face before she nodded, that Clarke noticed she her eyes were still closed against her neck.**

 

**“The Commander has many responsibilities, and..always have a duty to my people.” She turns to leave, sure she has all her things, but hesitates. Turning back to her, she looks over consideringly.” She opens her mouth and begins to speak again, wonderingly. “Would you tell me Klarke com SkyKru... if your people meant mine harm?”**

 

**Clare just stares back, feeling that this in front of her is something other than the girl she’d been with. Caught as prey she tilted her head softly to the side, feeling the words come to her as an echo and prophecy. “We are strangers to these lands, you are not. My people don’t know what it's like down here, the chaos or the law. Right now we have peace, and we want that to continue. Surely we are at least at a truce?”**

 

**Heda stared back at her, eyes wide and shock cracking her mask. The words presented back to her, and she saw damnable hope. Heda's eyebrows crinkled, serving Klarke's expressing for understanding of what she said. Closing her eyes, realizing it could not change anything she coldly turned away. Heda walked off towards the clearing she's met the girl, steeling her back and promising herself that when she reached her own boarders she would shed this confusing feeling.**

 

**“Will me meet again?” Clarke wondered to herself as she watched Heda walk away,** **the approaching dawn illuminating her back.**

  


“We do not differ much about what things they will call evils; we differ enormously about what evils we will call excusable.”

G.K . Chesterson, author of All Things Considered

 

**Raven found herself bound, aching and hurting in ways her body never felt before. She could feel a dirty but deadly sharpe machete at her neck that quivered with anticipation. Her eyes were only for Abby, who was staring back at her with a sense of desperation. Their moment was interrupted by a cold voice.**

 

**“The choice is simple, so choose.”**

 

**Raven was shoved forward, left bound on her knees before Abby and the other woman. The queen leaned over in her ear, whispering threats and promises of obedience or disobedience. Abby seemed to pale with each parameter uttered.**

**Taking her best opportunity, Raven cast looked to her side, eyeing up the battered girl next to her, she might not get another chance to learn more. If this was the end for her, desperately she begged, “what is your name?”**

 

**The girl coughed, clearly hoarse from screaming, if her numerous burns and cuts meant anything. The girl looked ahead to the cold queen, who was still intimidating and persuading the older woman who seemed to gripe the dagger white knuckled that had been thrust into her hand minutes before. This girl shrugged, knowing in the reality that it would not matter.**

  
  
**“It doesn't m-matter, b-but my name.. My n-name is C-Costia.”**

 

**I won't tell you which, but one of the last lines of this chapter was actually the prompt for this entire scene. I hope it was alright, it was my first time writing such scandalous material 0:-)**


	16. Hurt You. Really, really, bad.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There's always another storm. It's the way the world works. Rainstorms, windstorms, thunderstorms, and snowstorms. Some are fierce and others are small. You have to deal with each one separately, but you need to keep an eye on what's brewing for tomorrow.”   
> ― Maria V. Snyder, Fire Study

Commander of the Twelve, Heda Lexa meet up with Lincoln, who carefully avoided her gaze with a poorly restrained grin. She was able to hold her dignity through most of the ride back to the nearest settlement, TonDC, until her considering eyes met Lincoln’s knowing but over the top innocent face. He barely got to raise an eyebrow before both of hers narrowed in warning. TIlting his head in question of her threat, she shook her head, looking away, pretending to lose interest but possibly also trying to hide the heat on her cheeks. 

It had so long after all, surely she was allowed to move on. Putting her own doubts and guilt over Lincoln's face, she wondered if her people would think the same... 

‘We will never meet again. Anya saw it.’ She thought to herself.

 

Not too long later, the brunette commander sighed at the relief of seeing something familiar, TonDc, just ahead. She stiffened and sat up, energy renewed. Ar’in cocked an eye open, then opened both to look curiously at the sight before her. As they approached the gate, the Commander could feel the now familiar weight on her shoulders shift, it’s limbs and core tensing before climbing down to Heda’s secure knackpack behind her. Heda Lexa noticed embarrassingly late, far too long after her cool exit into the sunrise to double back and lose face, even to loosen a burden. Lincoln would figure something out for them, dothing nursemaid he was, she thought with a smirk. Heda held still, allowing the creature to move, already understanding. The cat predictably settled down into the pwed open knapsack, protectively over two smaller kittens with rather large black ears for their small size. 

Too soon later, Heda tensed as her sense picked up, noticing the guards at the gate seemed tense and anxious.

Something was wrong. THe commander assessed. She sought out the guards at the gate, resting almost relaxingly on a breathe as she found the gaze of her two most trusted people, Indra and Anya. She thought for a fleeting moment that the women would be intrigued by the animals she’s returned with, but it seemed whatever was going on blurted that out for her closest advisors as the air around her slowly but instantly began to close in.

The two women waited inside the gates, Anya seemed to be leaning back, inching away but steeling herself resolutely the same. Linkoln stepped to Lexa’s horse, carefully lowering the stitching with Ar’In and the smaller kittens and he backed away, taking them somewhere far from here. The commander had no awareness for such domestication as pets, flings, or personal life. So they dissipated off to the side, away. HEda’s inner child, the one frozen in youth, wished she could follow them away instead of wherever this led. But no. She knew her reality was towards the one the eye of fate pressed her to take. As she reached them, Indra spoke lowly, “Something...THere’s something..” And she sighed, and tried to start again. “Heda...”

Lexa narrowed her eyes in warning, as if Indra was deliberately toying with her. PUnishing her for leaving for so long without a real reason, knowing the older woman never supported her “distractions”. She narrowed her eyes over at the usually but not this usually intensely quiet Anya. Lexa was troubled by the fact that she was refusing to meet her eyes as if in guilt. But the commander could pull out emotions she’d never imagined she’d be broken enough to see. The desperate shame on her face made Lexa ill in dread.

Denial beginning to take root in her chest as the commander of the twelve tribes looked back at Indra, hoping to have this situation dissolved by logic. For the first time to see INdra’s face shake her head at disappointment in her observation of the situation. Indra was always good for that. But impossibly, Indra was blake, still closed off statuesque. This was illogical., her second never stumbled in her words. “Speak...what has happened?”

Inra took a step back, gesturing with barely a nod towards a tent.” Within a few steps, Anya did the unthinkable and turned to stand in Lexa’s path. Anya had never done such a thing. Anya pushed her along the path, trained her, guided her. But now Anya lifted her arms as if to stop her physically, as if to lay hands on her in public.. And LExa’s eyes widened with the realization of the depts of what could lay before her. Anya tried again, “COmmander, please…Don’t.. I..I made a mistake..” And she dropped to her knees at the foot of the tent.

To her side, Indra was holding the flap, duty alone powering her to lift the curtain, allowing her to see into the nearly empty chamber, Indra immediately her eyes herself, whatever shame it brought to her, she could not see the look of her commanders face when she realized…

Heda looked, expecting some sort of coup or obvious sign of distress that would account… But she looked and saw only a small bundle on the table. Lexa’s sharp eyes could make out that it appeared stained red at the bottom.

This did not make any logical sense. Why was something allowed to stain the table so, it looked like…

“Is that blood?” She wondered aloud, taking strides towards the clothed spherical object. 

At the same time said, but not heard by the Heda...  
“Lexsa no, wait-”   
“Please commander… You shouldn't...”

Heda barely noticed how tenderly wrapped...nor the weight... 

Her denial rode out, unwrapping until she was left holding it in her bare hands for the terrible moment where her soul burst, died, and came back again, taking in the bruised but undeniable nightmare in front of her. And her commander spirit realized.. Understood the betrayal… realized Anya’s entire behavior since she’d come back into camp.

Over a year ago, her beloved Costia had gone missing, kidnapped by the Ice Nation. She’d sent the girl she’s trusted her whole life, Anya, to bring her back. It wasn't meant to be..

Anya returned with only a braid and a heart wrenching tale of being too late. 

Slowly, a betraying voice broke through the deafening heartbeat. It only served to draw target to her scorned watch. Turning she drew her sword at Anya’s throat, the girl on her knees with tears in her eyes.

Anya tried, “please, I thought, I heard such terrible screams.., I thought…”

Unfortunately it fell on deaf ears.

Heda Lexa, Commander of the Coalition, cut her off with a growl drawing her blade along her neck.., that person at her feet once taught her how to sharpen,.

“I won’t hear any more from you. Your actions killed one of my closest friend to me, Anya is dead. I look at a stranger, no longer recognizing voice or existence. Rise now, nameless one. Begone from my land.”

 

“Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—   
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—   
’Tis the wind and nothing more!”

-Edgar Allen Poe “The Raven”

 

Trying to focus through the whiplash and abrasions she still ticked them somewhere on a mental notepad subconsciously. Looking in front of her helplessly, Abby tried to fiddle with the radio, but she didn’t know how any of it worked. That was what Raven was for, but younger girl already hit her head and passed out shortly after their desperate launch. Barely sparing her more than a shoulder grab to try to wake her up, she grabbed for the only thing that looked familiar, the radio.

The elder Griffin’s lungs strained, trying to get a full breath. Her voice choked in the chaotic and chopping tumbling. Finally she gasped enough to shout, “Ark Station come in, Ark Station come inl This is pod one, repeat this is Pod One..”

Dizzy, she tried to stay focused, trying to prove some sort of measurable part of success so far. The ground she’d only seen from windows seemed to grow impossibly close as she somehow found the concentration to try once more, 

“If you are receiving please respond…Please…If you are receiving please respond." The escape pod bounced viciously in the turbulence of reentry. A random spin causing Abby to pull the radio out of the com link, destroying the wires as it wrenched apart. Doctor Griffin yelled out in pain ash she hit her head. Everything faded away in the deafening chaos that lullabied her away.

 

“The man of the true religious tradition understands two things: liberty and obedience. The first means knowing what you really want. The second means knowing what you really trust.”

G.K Chesterton, author of All Things Considered

Everything hurt. Her heartbeat pounded out a migraine and promise of deeper injuries. But it was the sensations that deafed her, not sounds, or chaos. But that wasn't right. Suddenly her eyes opened with the quite relatable but relatively shocking sensation of being impossibly alive.

Content for a moment to just look around and breathe, she was quickly distracted by her companion. Raven tried to look over Abby’s bruises and scratches, but she didn't know what to do. THat was what Abby was for. Unsure if she should grab her shoulder she instantly looked to the familiar thing in Abby’s hands, the busted radio. "Ahh. Crap. That's not good." But then the outside, the concept and reality of an outside, captured her from her preliminary gaze. "Floating fuck, my god..!" She said as she shoved desperately at the door to open with her bruised arm and leg.

From next to her, she heard Abby weakly ask."Rave-” She broke off in a troubling cough, but she pushed on “Raven, did we make it?" 

Raven holds back scepticism and nods, pushing out, determined to set foot on the ground even if she snaps her legs or dies of radiation in a breatful.

The eye of fate narrowed in suspense and rolled, because quite anticlimactically, nothing happened. Octavia was left to take another deeper breath. 

"Aaah. I dreamed it would smell like this. Abby, some on, you gotta… oh my god, Is this rain?"

Hearing Abby get out of the ship and take a slow disbelieving look around at the snow covered ground. Raven holds her arms out for a hug.

“Welcome home."

And the eye of fate looked over again to the delinquents, though, all things considered, not terribly far away.

 

The animals the delinquents sheltered seemed to be acclimating well, the older ones come and went. The youngest were kept secured in the evening and night hours, volunteers to take care of and socialize these animals were never scarce. The most secure place was a makeshift holding cell, hard to get into or out of unless you were slinky and around the size of a bread box. But it worked well for the purpose of kitten-proofing. Perhaps the delinquents kept them closer than necessary, but the advantages to morale were beyond value, and everyone let it go and sent it as a sign that maybe life could be hopeful.

Clarke stared into the fire, as she had been doing every night since they’d landed and figured it out. Time was begging to pass, wanted to establish a sense of normality. But she still found herself here, feeling like she had pieces of the puzzle but not a box to show her she was getting it right. Or wrong. She had one of the older cats in her lap, once it had been a dark brown. Age whitened its points, it's muzzle almost completely white. At the crick of a twig off to the left in the far distance the feline rose without preamble and shuffled off into the depths of the drop ship, where the younger animals were held. Every so often certain noises the delintuintems dame, or noises in the distance, would set the animals off into hiding. It only happened a few times, and everyone was too buy to figure out the why or what if’s writing it off as animals in the wild.

She sat at the bonfire with Octavia, Lincoln, and another grounder she’s just met. Lincoln ha donnelly come into their camp the day before, bringing this girl in with him. Octavia had, as octavia does, reacted fairly hilariously in her failed attempt to remain aloof. Lincoln pulled her aside for a long, long few moments.

Clarke was let to stare at the girl who just stared straight ahead. 'Lost,' Clarke mused, in some regret. This girl seemed broken, and Lincoln come back with Octavia finally, stepping forward to just Clarke, actually their secrecy, sneaking her in late at night for a bed to sleep before leaving again in the morning. Clarke was humbled but confused by the desperation in Lincoln's face to keep this secret from every,e everyone being stressed and repeated. Clarke got what he meant, but not really why it mattered. Her heart was decided but her head looked to OCtavia, who nodded once in absolute certainty that this was the right thing to do. Decision completely made, She nodded her assent.

When she could, as she offered him a drink, she leaned in to say, “I don't know why, but i know it's important to you. I trust you to understand this makes us friends. “ His eyes held hesitations as he began to shake his head. Knowing what he meant to say she interrupted him before he could speak. “I mean as much as you can, we trust you, please trust us. We give you our world to sanctuary this girl for the night, and we will send our people out with you in the morning to split manhunt for her to have something., please give your word to help us with you people in exchange for this.

This girl refused any sort of introduction, shaking her head sadly at being asked her name. Lincoln was more forward than usual, offering her Monty’s drink.

As they chattered area logistics, Octavia was so eager to learn, Clarke interrupted them all with a “It’s Unity day, pretty sure..”

Octavia rolled her eyes, knowing that usually meant a crazy party day where’d they’d almost gotten caught. THe girl and Lincoln both tilted her head in confusion. Lincoln had a fire of interest in his eyes, loving new stories.

Clarke took a hearty chug of the moonshine and began, in a pontificating voce 

“Long ago when the Earth was on fire, through space all alone. and they realized life would be better together. The other stations saw this, and they wanted to be together, too. When all the stations were formed, they called themselves-”

All of a sudden, several red smoke grenades are thrown over the camp’s walls, and Anya says fearfully, "Mountain Men," as the red smoke begins to knock out the Delinquents, Lincoln, and the unnamed grounder.. Clarke's last image is of several men in gas masks and military outfits with laser-sighted rifles enter the camp and a Mountain Man pointing his gun and laser at her.

 

Clarke awakens in an unknown white room, all alone and wearing new clothes, an IV stuck in her.  
. It is furnished with a bed, a toilet, a couch, and several other items. She is wearing a white tank top, white pants, no shoes, and has an IV stuck inside her, which she immediately pulls out." She then goes to the locked door and sees Monty banging on the door of a similar room across the hall but his door is also locked. A plaque on Monty’s side of the hall says "Mount Weather Quarantine Ward". Clarke has a panicked look on her face.


	17. Please don't make any sudden moves, you don't know the half of the abuse.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With most of the delinquents gone, the rest of the characters scramble to acclimate to this new reality.

Murphy could see the dropship camp just ahead, and he sighed quietly in relief. He cracked his neck to the side, his muscles feeling sore. The weight of a masculine hand settled on his shoulder near his neck and rolled the muscle there. Murphy stumbled as he let out a groan and leaned in to the touch.

Just behind them, Jasper laughed tiredly. He pushed past them, attention focused on searching for the nearest comfortable surface to finally rest.

Letting Jasper get a few strides ahead of them, Bellamy raises his other hand to the other side of Murphy’s neck and rubs some of the tension and soreness away. Murphy felt breathe next to his ear as Bellamy spoke in a low, heated murmur. “Suppose we don’t go back to camp..”

Murphy almost relented, but then shook his head and stepped again, squeezing Bellamay's hands before running a hand through his hair, he boy standing close enough to touch without reaching too far. He wanted to tug that hair, pull him in more, but he was just so tired. He nuzzled against that cheek at his ear meaning to show he wasn’t rejecting his advances. “A drink and bed, that’s what I want.”

Bellamy nodded, exhaustion washing over him again as the slow adrenalin rush of arousal faded off, into a tenderness and a desire to wrap himself around Murphy, telling the world it could go hang.

 

They entered the camp through the tree line around the same time, looking around for whoever was around. But on this walk back into camp, it's too quiet. The air smelled weird. There's no one out, he didn't see anyone guarding the camp. That wasn't right. He turned to meet Murphy staring at him with a grim expression.

Jasper muttered, “grounders?”

Bellamy frowned, it didn't seem right. There would be more evidence of a fight, if they somehow decided to attack. This was different. It was just like everyone decided to up and leave. There was no note, no screwed codeword in a tree. Nothing.

There weren't even cats roaming around, though he was hoping he could attribruite the feeling of being watched from the trees that they were just higher up. But that was its own terrible omen as the animals settled into the place, themselves becoming a part of the norm over the short time they were there. Sure sometimes something happened where they scattered for the trees or the secure dropship, but it was unsual.

After not seeing anyone in the more or less exposed lean tos, They made a line for the dropship itself. Bellamy's foot kicked a can accidently, and it clinked off into the distance. Spotting another one, Jasper leaned down to pick it up gingerly. His exprission was grim but unsure. THey then made for the dropship. Finding the outer droop closed and secured, Bellamy began to beat his fist against the door.

“Its Bellamy! Let me in! Clarke? Octavia?!”

Hearing rustling and objects being moved around,, followed by latched being switched, the door was pulled open by Wells and Finn.

“Thank god Bellamy, we thought you three were taken with everyone else!”

Bellamy's face twisted in confusion and frustration.

“Taken?! Why? What's going on?”

As quickly as Finn and Wells were able to, and then with Bellamy's help, they all pulled the outer door open completely. Bellamy and the others who’d just arrived saw only a few of the faces he’s grown to recognize.

Wells settled into a grim expression.

“Everyone else.” Nodding grimly again at the question in Bellamy’s eyes. “Clarke and Oc-Octavia, along with the two grounders and... everyone else. We don't know who...-but not grounders. they had actual technology...like arc technology. 

Finn saw the next question in Bellamy's eyes at his first being unacceptably answered. "We didn't know where they took them, we barricaded ourselves in the ship. 

Murphy rolled his eyes, feeling cowardice and hearing excuses. Rolling his shoulders, which did not go unnoticed by Emmaly, as she shrugged regretful. Both wondering if they should have stayed in the woods longer, in their own content natural bubble.

 

“I've demonstrated there's no difference between me and everyone else! All it takes is one bad day to reduce the sanest man alive to lunacy. That's how far the world is from where I am. Just one bad day. You had a bad day once, am I right? I know I am. I can tell. You had a bad day and everything changed... and it drove you as crazy as everybody else... Only you won't admit it! You have to keep pretending that life makes sense, that there's some point to all this struggling! God you make me want to puke. I mean, what is it with you? What made you what you are?”  
-The Joker

Taking the clue from the two older men, he put his drink down and excused himself from the memorial for the lost. Catastrophic systems failure causes life support to be cut off from half of the stations. Abby Griffin, who was said to have died in her efforts, tried to shut down the entire system, the grief from losing her entire family finally snapped her, the official line went.

Sinclair walked to the office just around the corner, slipping in and locking the door as he saw Marcus Kane and Jaha already waiting for him.

Kane got right to it as soon as the door locked.

“You've run your simulations, how long?”

“Weeks, a month maybe… Yes,a month is safe to estimate.”

Jaha stared faced with this new reality, but it was only temporary at best, “Then what?”

Sinclair looked to them both. “Then…” He shrugged helplessly. “Then we decide.”

Kane stared back. Worry lines deepening with the weight of insurmountable odds. “EIther we kill ourselves off, or we go to the ground.”

SInclair nodded.

Jaha nodded to himself, a bit lost. “In a month, we try go back to the ground. Even if we perish, crash, or never stand on the ground, it's a chance... Its a chance to see my son.”His voice trailing off, weakening.

Kane and Sinclair nodded, Sinclair nauseated at the likelihood of failure. Kane was distracted by the unlikely implications of the ground being safe. Abby had a head start that could cost them al. He turned away from the discussion paying out to look out the porthole looking on the ground. He wondered if it was possible, and if it was, what awaited them.

 

Sometimes goodbyes aren't, sometimes they are again.

Heda Lexa cared for the remains personally through a discrete but reverent ceremony where she muttered words, regrets, and vows much too lowly for Indra to hear. Afterwards, Lexa took the ashes to the gardens, mixing them into the soil of a young sapling. As she left, he asked the family of those who tends to the plants to care for that young tree in particular. Gripping the patriarch of the family by his forearm, she leaned in to say, “Caring for that tree and discretion will keep you in the personal favor of your Heda. You and your family. ”

He nodded, wide eyed, not daring to question this. The family all nodded as well, understanding the basics of what happened. Lexa felt a bittersweet closure, as if a reopened wound was tersely trying to heal itself.

She turned away from them back to the sapling and walked the seconds it took to reach where she’d mixed Costa's spirit with the ground. Settling down into a cross-legged position, she closed her eyes, tuning and meditating with her Commander spirit. She had much to be troubled by, all things considered.

The others in attendance turned from her to go back to their duties with emphasis on steering any who might enter the garden away, citing reasonable excuses including poisonous or foul smelling plants in bloom.

 

Once the captured delinquents and Lincoln had been analyzed, while unconscious, they were sorted. Most went into acclimation. Unknowingly to them, a good of the number went into harvest, but the time for counting would come much later, much too late.

 

“Mark these two for the Morpheus Project”

 

The grounder and the grounder at heart went through decontamination where they were blasted with boiling water and doused with something that "burned even worse," according to Lincoln. He and Octavia were given shots and pills as well as visually inspected before being placed into holding cages for observation.

Phase 1 of the Morpheus project had the subject securely strapped down on a gurney and injected with the Red drug every two hours while flashing white IV light from a generator into thier held open eyes and accompanying it with electric shocks to the wrists for approximately 15 seconds.

Phase 2 commenced once both of the participants had become conditioned to show fear and physical distress towards the bright light (within a day or two).

 

It was the female, Octavia, who started to show the first quantifiable physical changes. Her eyes changed from greenish-blueish to bright red. She lost her relentless threats, settling to watch her handlers with cold threatening eyes, she found their reactions worthwhile when she just stared at their throats, finding the pulsepoint there and licking her tongue over her teeth. She did note in a moment of lucidity, that her teeth felt pointer than usual. The doctors seemed unnerved but fascinated, and within a few days she heard the telltale signs of a bed being wheeled into her room, though her restraints kept her from moving too much. Her brain told her that she would likely break the bonds if she needed, but first she needed to find her people, to find…

And there he was, she noticed with interest and fear that his eyes erent the warm brown ones she remembered but a bright red.. As their eyes met his face went from confusion and frustration to fascination, curiosity and alarm. She couldn't help smile, all things considered at least she knew he was sorta okay. Her teeth revealed, he returned her silver lining optimism, Her smiled for sd he revealed sharp teeth and elongated canines Her tongue checked her own and she realized her mouth probably matched. His eyes widen, coming to similar conclusion.

(finished some glaring typos and smoothed some parts out, expect an update by tomorrow... Just trying to make it perfect! Hope you're still out there!)


	18. You'll think, how'd I get here, sitting next to you?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Times are getting dark for your humble author, but I'm trying to hang on..

It was hard to tell how much time was passing, but what felt like a few days later, the litany of tests, treatments, and observations was almost settling into a predictable rhythm for the two current patients of the Morpheus Project.

Until was interrupted by a blaring of an alarm..

The two armed guards filed out, unsure of one should stay but they’d never actually heard the alarm go off before so they shrugged and left. The patients seemed docile and the doctor unconcerned. So they left.

That doctor barely heard the alarm, she herself too occupied with the exhilarating adrenalin rush at being on the edge of a scientific breakthrough. Subjects had never lived this long before. Her computer was facing in their direction but she was distracted still by the latest test results on the screen. She has a brown complexion, with long black hair and brown eyes. Her name tag, Octavia is easily able to read, even at a distance, says “Tsing”. 

Octavia takes a moment to look over to Lincoln on the other side of the small sterile room. He was much more securely and thoroughly bound than Octavia. Her eyes took a few more minutes to appreciate his bare torso under the restraints. He feels her gaze as her eyes finally roam up his chest to make eye contact. She looks at him and then back to the doctor, malice and opportunity in her eyes, Lincoln's eyes focus as he understands her suggestion, and he once as subtly he can, careful not to divert the doctor’s attention back to them.

Letting a few more minutes go by the alarm blaring seemed to become background noise. Figuring now was better than any later, Octavia arched her back off the table as best she could. rolling her eyes back in her head, she groaned dramatically in pain. “It hurts..” She laboriously groaned out.

What audible alarms cannot do, narcissism and greed can. Broken out of her calculations with a jump, THe doctor rushes back over, desperate to protect her specimen. Gasping as if losing air, she whispers, articulating “Please..” among other broken incomprehensible words. Leaning in, the doctor is just a few inches from her mouth. “What is it?” the doctor fascinately asks, curious to update her research with observed and reported side effects of the treatments if the specimen was to be an initial failure..

“Just...hu….hun..”

Unable to quantify that the doctor leaned forward a few inches, “What?” she asks, turning and closing her eyes to focus on the words.

Also taking a moment to focus herself Octavia carpes the fucking float out of the diem and latches on to the neck of the doctor, her teeth going for the jugular and finding it. The doctor can't find the focus to scream to a roomy empty of anyone who could help her anyway. Within another few moments she doesn't have a throat to yell with as Octavia's arms snap the arm restraint on her bed she's been pulling at whenever she could, pulling the new victim into Octavia's jaws as she attacks and savors the taste before releasing her grip and allowing the doctor to fall to the floor in a heap. Any shock at her actions is washed away in the satisfaction of the taste on her lips.

Ripping the restraints off her feet, she lunged over to Lincoln to help free him. He was more restricted, as he’s shown the more noticeable physical enhancements. Right now, she was distracted by the gleam from his own elongated canines that breached his lips naturally. 

Freeing him, they snuck to the door and Octavia peered out, Lincoln at her back ready for an assault. She can hear someone in a room down the hall, near a closed door inside a room. They had no idea what was out there. 

She turned back to Lincoln, listening for a second and only hearing two or three sets of feet shuffle behind the door. She grins, her teeth bright and predatory. She felt so energised and confident, after easily overpowering the doctor and tensing her own muscles she was desperately eager for a fight. Lincoln nods back, confident in her assessment and just as energized. She slinks out the door and waits by the doorway down the hall. A door down the fall from theirs opened, and Octavia hissed as anticipation of a flight flooded her senses. Grabbing the first person out the door and holding them up against the wall as Octavia leans in to bite down. Lincoln, she knew, would take care of the other person. But two gasps surprise brought Octavia out of the pleasure of a sure kill and she thought she heard a familiar voice pleading with her. Made sense, she was pretty scary.

“Octavia, please, it’s me...Clarke..” The pleading mantra finally broke through to Octavia as she pulled back to look her in the face, Clarke's eyes widened, finally catching Octavia's changed eyes. Something important enough past finding Octavia and Lincoln, something was different about them. Looking back to the girl she's freed form the cage she knew she had to get out of here, any connection to Heda including the girl she's been with, Clarke felt called to protect. Even though she shook her head sadly when asked of her own name. 

Overcome with adrenalin, she blurted out.

“What .. happened…?” Clarke got out, escape forgotten.

Shaking away the predatory instincts, she evasively responded with “Things..and stuff. Later, please. ” Still so very on edge, she shivered to herself. Movement made her realize the girl behind her was Lincoln's friend.

“We need to go.” The other girl said, mostly to Lincoln. There was a comedic chain where Lincoln then looked to Octavia, who then looked to Clarke with an eyebrow raised. Clarke nodded in relief, both at the familiar gesture and at the insane notion that getting out of this alive was within the realm of possibility. 

 

But Octavia and Lincoln, she hadn't seen them since she’s been knocked unconscious. Something major had happened, something important. Clarke needed to know, but she also needed to get out of here. Whatever happened, she just had to trust that her friends were still significantly enough themselves. If not, then it was lost. That's all there was. Clarke began to gestured them down the corridor, quietly murmuring what she had gleamed out of the layout. It wasn't much, but she had an idea of caves they could escape through. The nameless girl followed them, and Lincoln noted that it was the most alive the girl looked since her name was taken away. It was a purpose, even a short one. Something with a chance of success, even if that was as bittersweet as survival in a world she had no place in. He knew she didn't want his pity so he focused on getting them to safety and getting back to his people. Murmuring with the girl, she detailed as much as she could, knowing he was the only one of the two who had the ear of the Commander anymore. 

Octavia was feeling claustrophobic. Now that she had a tasted of the open air, she carved it. She tensed at the idea of being out in the clear day, the tortures of the UV lights ingrained in her. 

 

The eye of fate struggled at which of the four to focus on, there was so much potential for narrative. 

 

“War is not ‘the best way of settling differences; it is the only way of preventing their being settled for you.”

-G.K. Chesterton, author of ‘All Things Considered”

 

Bellamy, Murphy, and Jasper refortify the door in case the hazmat guys came back, [pushing back the miscellaneous filing cabinets and furniture. When it was done they turned back to the few in the room in tense anticipation.

According to Finn and Wells, the only ones remaining at the camp were the volunteers caring for the animals and whoever was out of the area at the time. Murphy interjected with a sarcastic “lucky us.” Bellamy narrowed an eye at Murphy in warning before looking back to Wells for him to get on with it. Finn and Murphy shared a similar amused eye roll regardless of the situation. Wells nodded down to the cat in his arms, the darker one with the eye injuries. They seemed laced closed, and the cat purred contentedly, its ears twitched whenever a sound was made. “Same goes for them, only the ones in here are the ones accounted for.”

Finn smiled to the bundle in Wells arms, “He hasn’t put that cat down yet, s’why we’re here really. That wound and the others have to be monitored, so we’ve just taken to sleeping in this area. There’s enough for a half dozen to sleep comfortably." He settled back to lean against a column of totes.

Wells continued to speak. “We hope the rest are just in hiding, we thought some were in the trees but they’ve gotten better at climbing and hiding so it's hard to be sure. We’d hope you were okay, we can't do much with these numbers.”

“Figured the forest was just haunted” Murphy interjected, and Bellamy didn't even try to glare.

It seems that much had happened since they'd left on a scouting detail a couple days before. Things were calm enough, and the dropship needed to know more about what was out there, Bellamy insisted. They had the resources to do so, so they’ve left nearly two days before. Seems all the fun happened hours after the’d left. 

The night in question was frustratingly vague, to Bellamy's standards. Only the pale shaggy haired kid was awake when it happened, the others were pretty much early risers, with being the obligate medical tent for the new charges. he stressed that the whole thing was very quiet, and he'd only thought to secure the door and hope for the best before going back to wake the others up. He pleaded that he just reacted, stressing the need to keep those safe who he could. Wells and Finn nodded with more understanding than the others in the room who appeared to be restraining their bafflement to varying degrees of success.

Apparently Finn was the first awoken after the kidnapping as he took over the story from there, he’d been the one to go out

Interjections were made by a delinquent in the background, Eliot, who’d been so antisocial on the arc and then on the ground that everyone tended to forget about him and leave him be. He was detained earlier on in life, and never mixed with Bellamy's circle of friends. Bell was always so focused on keeping his sister safe, he realized he didn't know many of that 'kids personal story. He had an olive exotic appearance, and was a bit weird. In the few interactions any had shared with him. He tilted his head often and nodded, as if someone was adding good input. But Elliott was quick, if awkwardly stuttered, happy to oblige retelling it with a kind nod. 

Jasper watched the boy as the others talked about things he didn't really care about. He’d tune back in when the plan was set to get Monty and the others back. Thinking on Eliot, he vaguely remembered the kids story. He was from the agro station, same as him and Monty. Jasper didn't know much about his family, he thought he remembered something about his sister and father dying but he could just be guessing. All he really knew was the general vibe of leave me be and being detained as an early teen for some computer thing. At the time it was said to be attempted terrorism and illegal hacking, but after Clarke agreed seems he uncovered the issues with sustainability but was too quickly caught. It's crazy what worlds can collide.

To his left the boy who’d been awake during the chaos sat. This one Bellamy remembered, it was hard to not. Years ago, on the arc, there was some guy who went mad. He remembered the cray guy said only a few deserved the life on the arc, and tried to take out an entire sector. A few got in his way, and there was a long quarantined hostage scene, only one boy survived. Since then the kid managed to be at the center of most trouble on the arc 9 though always the innocent/brave soul when the dust settled). Bellamy acknowledged that he might just be a bit jealous that the boy who lived because his parents saved a bunch of people was just too damn lucky, it was too much of a coincidence. That kid, Harry, was pretty nice though. His luck rubbed off on people, sometimes. It was a boon to have around.

So Bellamy wasn't too surprised that it was Harry who uncovered it, thinking at least to secure the dropship as the smash and grab kidnapping took place. He wondered at their luck but knowing Harry, he guessed it made sense.

Bellamy sighed as he looked out the small glass window on the wall. The night was brighter because of the clear skies and full moon. Mayb-

A loud rapping at the outer door sent everyone's eyes to Bellamy, and he just furrowed his eyebrows and stared towards the noise. A female voice he’d know anywhere called out after the first few knocks went unanswered. 

 

The ice queen, Narcissus, intended to kill both of them when she’s been brought the two women captured by her people. But they mentioned the older woman kept asking about Clarke possibly of the Skykru and when pressed the woman persuaded that she was her mother. Suddenly, she knows the gift that fate has given her. News of those who fell from the sky traveled very quickly, from her ears in the area. Seems these two fell as well, but they were very far from home. The entire guards were instructed to pretend not to know of any sky people for the time being, her mind turned with the possibilities. The commander was weak in the ice queen's eyes, but she commander great power. The sky people were strong, and had things here smarted council could not explain.. She needed to drive a wedge between the two allies and she had just the way to do it. She knew keeping the trikru girl alive would pay off.

All Abby saw when she looked to the leader was a blank, expectant face. Abby herself was was nauseous at the choice in from of her, everything was moving too fast and too nightmarishly for her to focus. She feebly tried to refuse or beg for an alternative or herself, one of the grounders slice Ravens leg in warning. And judging by the scream and tears after, it was a painful wound. So she took a moment to look into the resigned unfamiliar eyes that nodded in acceptance before Abby did it… Abby barely heard and did not acknowledge Raven’s screams that she should have just let her die. She knew she needed the other girl at least for now. An ally was invaluable.. 

After the fatal blow with the crude weapon, the queen's son stepped forward and effortlessly cleft off the grounders head in once swipe with a sharp machete he already had readied. He then picked up the dismembered head and tossed it to a nearby guard, the same one who cleft Ravens leg. The ice prince sneered and said, "gift wrap the commanders present and send it off. Wouldn't suggest a messenger you liked though."


	19. Fly Anywhere. Fly You Fools!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I always wonder why birds choose to stay in the same place when they can fly anywhere on the earth, then I ask myself the same question.”

I hope this will alliavate concerns that I am introducing too much. Thank you for the honest massages and keep them coming. I appreciate input! Now, time to skim this over before returning to drarry stories...I mean..uh... OBLIVIATE!

 

There was a dark ghastly room, air cold and heavily recycled. Frost was forming on parts of the walls, especially from where the vents pumped in the chilling sterile air. The room itself bathed in darker light, as if dimmed. The room was empty, not of much notice to the people at large, as was the intent. This was a dark room shut away from the innocence of the consequences of their eutopia. This was a room never acknowledged, always hidden and forbidden. knowledge gleaned from unforgivable curses against people. But those who dwelt in these matters were above such base morals of good and evil. There was only knowledge and survival. There were two dozen bodies wrapped in cold black plastic bags, and more in parts around the room or burned away as derelict waste in the room one over. No one was standing near any of the wrapped bodies. There was an iron door off to the side, a chamber that reeked of burned wood and something darker.

Jars were filled up, clearly marked, and refrigerating united lined the walled, some marked by blood type, others by descriptions of organs.

The other wall was lined with occupied cages, though the occupants were clearly drugged to the point of catatonia.

Apart from the room that led to a crematorium, the only door was the one that exited out towards the hallway but not into it. 

 

She was facing the hallway, and the doorway that led further into nightmares simply said “Harvest Chamber" was at her back. Her brain or something else shut off the train of thought, during its contemplation for much later. Clarke was completely focused on what was before her, feeling pushed away from considering what horrors were behind that door and there were more pressing matter again her sense anyway

This though. This she desperately wanted to believe was lies…The humans in cages. their wealemed emaciated state... Clarke didn't know how long she stood staring at the cages. 

Approaching a familiar face in the closest cage, she looked at the grounder she had no name for who gripped the bars holding her in as if fighting desperation. Clarke wondered what had happened to the girl over the past couple of days. 

She closed the distance and put put her hands to the bars, closing over the white knuckled hands of this girl. She leaned in, closing her eyes for a moment, wishing desperately for the oasis of a moments rest before she flashed them open again at the girl. "I'm gonna get you out of here." Taking a moment to blink and consider her seriously, she opened her eyes pleadingly, "but having a name to call you would really help things along."

The girl shook her head, stubborn even now. But eyes betraying fear. “My name was taken from me by my commander. I betrayed her and my people." She let silence take over for a moment before her inner strategist cursed her for denying a much needed ally. She compromised with the dueling arguments before muttering out defeatedly, "To my people, Anya is dead.”

Clarke leaned in, gripping at this girl's hands. “Friends we may be, but I am not your people. And I am going to free the clearly alive Anya from hell so she might help me save her people. Perhaps she was only mostly dead.”

And she winks before turning around, mind back on business and the ticking time bomb before the alarms would start that signaled the mountain being aware of her broken promises to leave things be.

 

Clarke searches the Chamber they are in, unable to muster up the strength to consider the door that led to somewhere else. She finds a bar she can use as a crowbar to pry the lock open. She successfully breaks the lock freeing Anya however, her victory is short lived and swiftly killed as the sounds of the alarm began to sound. 

Clarke waves her arms around as a sign of her true teenage years, helpless and baffled. Instincts driving her to cover up misbehavior she pushed the halfway freed captive backwards with a frantic but halfway hushed yelp. "Get back in!" Before weirdly enough, following herself into the small cage.

They sit there in anticipation as doors outside in the hallway open and slam closed, guards running past the door down the hallway and away.

After a minute of the alarms being the only sign of anything outdoors, they gingelly leave the cages. Clarke sheepishly avoiding the awkward eyebrow of the other girl, who'd been confused and a bit amused at Clarke climbing in the cage after her. The girl who was once Anya and is to only one now, heavily handed off their only weapon, the crowbar. As she put it in the hands of the tanner skinned grounder she warned him to be careful and use this if they could. They could be back.”

The girls walked off away from the captives, hoping in their good fortune. Clarke approached the door out faster but hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. Clarke knew a bit of the area, having studied maps and blueprints on the walls from “fire safety” signs in want of an evacuation, not that they could leave.

Just as Clarke reached for the doorknob a wounded scream was soon muffled in a room down the all. Wide-eyed and looking at each other they were confused. It wasn't the sound of fighting it was the sound of something being brutally attacked.

“An escaped grounder?”

It made a bit of sense, in that nothing else did, so Clarke turned the doorknob and pulled it open, trying to look instead of listen. Taking a surer step than was remotely wise, her body and vision spun and she found herself shoved up against a wall. She barely heard the gasps of two others in the corridor as her eyes sought the face directly inches in front of her. She gasped out, feeling her vision begin to cloud at the edges. But she knew that face...

“Octa-Octav..ia? Please… It’s me..” Clarke imagined she was nearly gone as Octavia's face seemed wild. Her eyes were all wrong, her teeth all wrong, but she still instinctively begged for survival from her friend.

Her vision cleared as the eyes in front of her widen in recognition and lessened her grip on Clarke's neck, the blonde gasping for deeper breathes. She lowed Clarke to the ground and Clarke couldn't miss the girl looked back to the other person there, Lincoln! Octavia bit her lip as if she sought affirmation. Lincoln nodded back at her and Clarke realised that both of their eyes were different in the same way. She was thrown off, looking back and forth. Could not compute, but there wasn't time, so she gestured them down the hallway, looking for something in particular.

Still, there were questions. She tried to get more information out of Octavia, but the girl was evasive and troubled. Then Clarke had more than a moment to take in her appearance. She couldn't hold back a gasp. 

Octavia immediately turned way to brush her face clean of blood. Lincoln tried to help but his eyes alight at the sight in obvious arousal. Octavia brushed his hand away with a knowing smirk and whispered promise. Clark shook her head away from the too intimate and weird scene. Something big happened, but still, getting out was the only important thing.

Finally, after a few quick silent gestures and eye movements between Lincoln and the girl who was once Anya, the girl in question looked to lincoln to end the discussion and then to Clarke.

“We need to go.”

Following Clarke, Lincoln, and Octavia down the hallway, the girl mused that all things considered, life wasn't terrible in exile. At least for now. She still longed for her people and loved them dearly. So she spoke openly to Lincoln, pressing with her voice to share everything. To perhaps share that she helped. That she desperately loved her people. Lincoln's sad but supportive eyes in return did little to reassure her, but it was all she could do for now.

“We need to get out of here now Clarke.” Octavia said, trying to be quiet but so restless and anxious that it came out in a bit of a hiss through her teeth.

Clarke broke from her thoughts as she saw large heavy doors that seemed to be secured balevre in front of them, but they pitched downward as if into a drop chute. She nodded, as if a guess might be paying off. She turned to see a question in Octavia who quickly followed it with a shrug.

“Got any better ideas?” she aimed at the prince's before looking to anyone else.

Clarke mused 'Door number one it is', and pulled the lever. The door opened into a downward pitched metallic enforced but earthen based chute. Footsteps and barked commands that approached the doors makes the decision for them as they vaulted themselves down the chute, hoping for the best.

Each jumps out of the cart they all landed in, to each disgusts full of dead bodies.

Lincoln loos to them, "We need to cover ground." And turns his back to look down the passageway.

The girl shakes her head back at him as he looks away. "We won't leave our people behind. They are in cages...'

Clarke tries to interject, "Anya listen to me, my people are still inside there too. But they have guards they have weapons once we're out we can find help and come back and get them."

Clarke turned for reassurance to Octavia, but finding he focus outward she noticed Lincoln was similarly intently staring out down the cavernous corridor. The duo only outwardly merely sniffed the air while concentrating into the depths. Clarke noted that after a moment each of their mouths opened, as if tasting the smell alongside the natural sense. Turning back in unison then nodded to them, coming back to assist them. Clarke and the other girl were tired and weak, respectively. The unnatural strength of Octavia and Lincoln was necessary to get them out of here as soon as possible. 

Not asking for permission, Octavia and Lincoln each grabbed their charges and pulled them around and up. forcing them to go piggyback, hurriedly breaking into a sprint down the cavern corridors. Clarke confused, the other girl offended by the indignity. But still the two pairs hurried down the hall. 

Finally after what seemed like an hour, the group burst out of cavern darkness through the opening into a starlight nightfall. Clarke and the other girl still on the backs of the stronger two. From there they found themselves walking at least a half hour before Clarke and the girl found themselves gingerly deposited on the ground as Octavia and Lincoln sniffed out the new surroundings. It seemed to be a few hours after nightfall at least.

Glancing off into the eastern horizon, Octavia shuddered in anxiety. "We have to get somewhere soon, somewhere safe. I'm lost Lincoln, but I know we have to get inside somewhere."

He wanted to return to his people, and knew his commander had a vested if not hidden interested in at least one of their party. But he was unsure how the unnamed...how Anya would be received. He did know though, he knew she would be arrested or likely killed on sight for her described crimes against their people and personally the commander.

Lincoln nodded. “We go back to your people then, when we are secure I will leave to inform my Commander. Our people have been being kidnapped for a long time, I have important information. I have a message to tell...” and he looked back at Anya, who is distracted by focusing herself beyond any awareness of the next task to accomplish. For now it is getting back to a home base and for now, the place of the skycrew was acceptable. Regardless of how suicidal and nihilistic she was in the past, confronted with the likelihood of torture and death, she found herself aching for fulfillment. 

Clarke stopped them all, "We dont even know the way back to camp!" She said, a bit louder than necessary.

After a backward glance at the girl to make sure she was okay, Lincoln turned back to Octavia before taking a deep breathe. His thoughts were interrupted by a deliciously mischievous tone very close to his ear. “On three?”

Lincoln couldn't help himself but nod.

She whispered, in a low tone, "One."

His eyes fluttering a bit as he inhaled her scent forgetting about the others and leaning in, turning his head to feel her breath on his ear again and he purred out, "two..."


	20. My Lonely Angel, Stuck On The Slow Path With Me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Clara sometimes asks me if I dream. ‘Of course I dream’, I tell her. ‘Everybody dreams’. "But what do you dream about?’, she'll ask. ‘The same thing everybody dreams about’, I tell her. ‘I dream about where I'm going.’ She always laughs at that. ‘But you're not going anywhere, you're just wandering about.’ That's not true. Not anymore. I have a new destination. My journey is the same as yours, the same as anyone's. It's taken me so many years, but at last I know where I'm going. Where I've always been going. Home. The long way round.”
> 
> -Doctor Who
> 
> Distances traveled in this chapter are as real life accurate as possible. I did math. Is smart.

 

When last we left these heroes they had just escaped Mount Weather, and now are several hours into the trek back to the dropship, the full moon lighting the path where it broke through the thickening tree growth. Clarke’s meager sense of direction was nullified at this point, so she found herself trusting the direction that Lincoln and Octavia pointed in. Both picked this same direction on ‘three’ hours before, Clarke remembered as she rolled her eyes amusedly. It was relieving, to see that playfulness continue between the two. It made them seem normal, even when they clearly no longer were.

Octavia was nervous after the exhilaration and adrenalin rush of the escape wore off. She could feel Clarke’s curious look on her back. She turned to catch her eyes a few times, relaxed to see not fear but curiosity and a bit of protectiveness in her eyes. There was enough nocturnal activity in the forest ahead of her to keep focused otherwise. Who knew if the mountain men had laid traps, and she was keen to detect anything. The trees seemed to liven as they got further out. The air did seem a bit odd nearest to the mountain vents but she didn't know enough of anything relevant to put clues together. So she watched out for the present, not caring to piece together the past.

The female grounder seemed to follow on with narrow focus. Quiet as always, she was just trying to concentrate on one foot in front of the other. She noted huge older trees surrounding them, as they trudged through the vaguest semblance of a path. It was a wonder her and Clarke were avoiding the many stones and shrubs in their path. How they hadn't managed to get lost..

Everything was lost before, but none of her people had ever escaped the mountain before. Perhaps...perhaps she could take this information back to her Heda to begin atonement. Such a thing was never tried, but she had little to lose besides her life. And all things considered, she lost that already.

Shaking her head, this girl looked ahead to Lincoln com Trekru and Octavia com Skykru. Something had been done to them in the mountain, something she’s never heard even rumors of. They seemed more, as if the spirits changed them into something. By now she had time to study their eyes and faces a bit more. Their eyes, obviously red, seemed piercing. Like the look of an owl who sees into you. The grounder didn't understand if they were even themselves anymore, but she knew these few were the closest thing she had to friends anymore.

As the forest grew thicker, the path grew darker, and Octavia and Lincoln did not slow. The seasoned trained grounder pushed past her bone deep exhaustion, determined to march on until she dropped.

Clarke was no hardened warrior, she was drained from the paranoia that kept her up in the mountain, then the energy it took to escape itself. Walking at a steadier clip for the first hour, then pacing normal for the rest of the night she was at the end of her second wind, perhaps third, and her body just couldn't take it anymore. She stopped to lean up a tree, knees buckling. “I'm sorry,” she apologized.

“Don't apologize for not getting weird mountain mutations Clarke.” Octavia said, her and Lincoln at Clarke's side at once. Clarke turned her head to smile at Octavia through her basely conscious state. Happy for Octavia to bring it up so openly.

“Tell me?” Clarke asked, her arm rising slowly to weakly grasp Octavia's firm forearm.

She shrugged, not having much to tell. But she stayed close, standing under the same wide evergreen tree. “Not sure what.. happened really, they kept us both pretty doped up. They did something to us Clarke, gave us treatments. Something about Morpheus. Some time later we woke up like this, different. Red eyes, hungry, strong, sensitive to bright light, hungry.” Octavia said, her eyes lighting up a bit as she repeated hunger. Clarke was a bit unnerved, but kept her face open.

The female grounder interjected, trying to hide her exhaustion by haphazardly leaning up against another trunk, leaning into it whenever anyone wasn't looking at her. “Is it permanent?”

Lincoln shrugged. Octavia opened her mouth, and Lincoln knew it was to confess something best left for later. He brushed past her and without asking, lifted Clarke up to carry them along. He looked at the girl still standing and asked, pointlessly, “can you walk?”

She nodded back without hesitation, drawing her exhaustion into a place deep inside of her and holding it closed tightly for as long as possible.

They carried on a few more hours, their pace dropping as time went on and the exhausted girl still on her feet put one foot slowly in front of the other.

Drawing up to a broken down but still mostly intact hunters shack half hidden by forest growth, Lincoln walked up to it immediately, listening and hearing nothing. CLarke was in and out of consciousness, unable to rest while being carried away from danger. Octavia cleared the derelict but study place of anything creepy or crawly and Lincoln carried Clarke in after. The chamber inside was barren, a few abandoned tattered blankets Octavia quickly shook off and laid out over two spots. The other grounder shambled in, by now stumbling over her feet approaching the blankets. Finally spent, she fell to her knees, falling forward in a heap with such a lack of the usual grace and dignity she usually had that Lincoln and Octavia both snorted in amusement.

 

Lincoln settled Clarke down who only curled into herself and finally falling completely asleep.

Lincoln and Octavia looked at them, watching them sleep and thinking back over the past few days for relevant information. They couldn't shake the desire to stay out of the sunlight, but they couldn't really explain it past the UV light torture sessions. What that could possible mean took up a few hours of hushed conversation in a darker corner of the shack.

As the sun grew to midday, the room was halfway lit. Both narrowed their eyes to slits at the light. Octavia couldn’t shake the desire to know exactly what happened, even if it was terrible, and repeated the thought aloud Lincoln. He narrowed his eyebrows at her but nodded once, understanding they did need to know.

“Slowly” he begged quietly, not wanting for her to get hurt or to lose her.

She nodded and inched towards the ray of light that hit the floor near their feet with eyes wide open despite the uncomfortable brightness. Gingerly she tried to poke a finger into the light, then her whole hand. It felt tingly, and she turned her hand looking at it, brown lines formed over her veins before widening and darkening to cover her entire hand where the light hit. It quickly seemed to take on a bark like texture, deeping to crack as bark does. It still maintained its integrity, and Octavia felt no pain. Turning back to Lincoln who was staring side eyed at her. He could see it perfectly from this distance, her hand changed, darkened. Not to his skin color, but a warmer dark brown.

She looked at him, but didn't wait for permission, before stepping into the ray of sunlight fully. Octavia closed her eyes, feeling almost the same as when she first stepped out onto the ground. Full of life, energy. A gasp from Lincoln had her opening her eyes and looking back to him. Or trying to. Because as must as she willed herself to..

She couldn't open her eyes.

Panicking, she cried out for Lincoln, the noise not seeming to reach the two passed out girls on the floor nearby.

Octavia felt a pull, and the energy went away leaving a sense of cooler darkness, minty almost. She could feel her eyelids tightly held shut again and relaxed opening them slowly. Octavia found herself looking into Lincoln's face and her very normal hands on his neck.

Holding himself back for now, he tried to calm his skykru girl down. “What happened?”

Octavia tried to explain the feeling as soon as she stepped into the sunlight. Of being warm and protected, but protected in a restrictive sense following the realization that she was blind. She admitted not trying to sense more, and Lincoln shushed her apologies and guilt away. “We will leave it alone until later, but we cannot tell anyone until we know more. No tests.”

She nods, and they wait more of the day out in silence. A rustling in the corner emits a rather large rabbit. Octavia smiles, shaked out of her panic with the idea of food. Lincoln returns her grin and they stalk it for a few minutes, caring to avoid at least stepping falling into the sunlight as the cornered the animal.

 

 

“Go to the city, find somebody important. Tell them I’m back. Tell them I know what they did and I’m on my way. And if they ask you who I am, tell them I came the long way around.”

Doctor Who

 

 

The commander sat on the ground in the cool evening air, feeling the wind around her as it picked up. In her meditation her eyebrows furrowed, the wind starting to make her feel restless. Staying still for a few minutes longer, she sighed, failing to regain the calmness she had before the weather shifted. As she opened her eyes and looked to Ar'in before her, who’d taken to curling up around the young sapling whenever Heda Lexa came out here.

There seemed to be a connection, or at the least, affinity between the tree and Ar’in. Whenever Lexa was within sight of the tree in approach, the cat would numbly jump down and stride over to the tree before curling up for the duration of Lexus stay in the garden. It was the one situation where she needed to directly summon the cat back to her. It was very curious, but it was just another question in the supernatural essence that was her new familiar cat.

So now, she clicked her tongue twice softly, and Ar’in slowly opened her eyes before rising up to her haunches and stretching. Then the cat walked over to the waiting commander who scooped her up in her arms before the cat climbed to rest over her shoulders once more. Rising to her feet and sweeping her clothes of dirt and grass, the commander turned and walked out of the garden. She raised a hand to calmly pet Ar’in, quietly promising they would return soon. Ar’in responded by nuzzled Heda’s cheek and purring softly until the pair reach the outskirts of the garden, where a troubled looking Ryder and Indra was waiting for her. Heda sighed away the easy calmness she always found herself in after meditating in the garden.

Approaching them directly, Heda looked to Ryder then Indra. “Speak.”

Ryder bowed his head respectively. “I believe there is trouble with the Skykru..."

Heda stared back, waiting for more information. It must be something, to get him to leave post and return home to report.

“The mountain men.” He spoke as Heda twitched. She was expecting, or hoping, for trouble from the Ice Nation before the Mountain. It had been quiet, apparently too quiet from that particular front. Ryder continued at Heda Lexa’s gesture. “They've taken most of the sky crew, including Lincoln cum Trekru, an exile, and their leader Clarke.”

Heda held onto to her stoic mask with white knuckled determination.

They looked around, seeing only the father who owned the farm in the middle distance, she met his eyes and nodded him off. As he bowed and left the area she turned back to them, the wind was picking up even more as the sun began to set in earnest,

Ryder spoke quietly and to the point. “We were far off, staying out of sight. They had wider patrols recently, trying to learn the land so we have been going further and further out. We noted they were not heavily armed through, several of the skykru had parchment and seemed to be mapping the area.”

The Heda nodded, a bit proud of the insight of the people to learn without the need for aggression.

Ryder continued. “We were further out and luckily missed the small gas clouds that felled the skykru… After the air cleared I sent most of my group to scout after the mountain men, in order to follow. I did tell them not to interfere and stay out of sight. I fear we would have been no match, and knowledge was better than a lost trail.” Heda nodded her support though the effort was strained as she felt her stomach clench in fear for Klarke.

Indra stared at Heda’s face, watching the little tics of reaction. She'd known there was a general patrol in the area but not of this apparent focus. The Heda was taking this personally.

Heda looked to her, her expression darkening as Indra’s turned too curious. “We ride out at once to secure the trail. We need to know more about the Mountain Men and why they have been taking our people. Act instead of react.”

Walking stiffly with her head held high past them with a gesture to Ryder to follow her. THey went to fetch two strong horses bred for long distance to travel the the two days journey in hopefully one.

A day passes and when night falls they make camp. The next continues on, as they pass by the too quiet Skykru camp towards the mountain. They had to slow down at this point, as they searched for the trail of those who took the Skykru and Lincoln. These mountain men were arrogant and dumb with power, and luckily for them did not think to hide tracks. The commander and Ryder found the path by that midday and followed it through the forest.

Authors Note: This is turning into quite the beast! I wasn’t sure how I’d manage to get our heroines back together but they write themselves into each others path. Hopefully it will be in time.

Any suggestions for short or long term plots are welcome, I have a general idea of “Fixed events” but I'm open to ideas! I hope you like slowing it down here, I wanted to focus on characters for a bit.


	21. My Lonely Angel, Stuck On The Slow Path With Me. Pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do your little bit of good where you are; it's those little bits of good put together that overwhelm the world.” Archbishop Desmond Tutu

They sat for a bit longer, several hours of hunting and eating left them both lazy and sated. The dim sunlight made them both sleepy, the rambled shack in the woods was the calm after the storm. There was enough rustling outside that meant they would be able to hunt something whenever the girls woke up, but they didn't want to draw anyone hunting them onto their path. And both of them were still sleeping deeply, only the vaguest brushes of nightmares that made them cry out but shortly relax, as if too tired to fight or react to whatever haunted them. 

Octavia wondered what happened to them between between taken by the mountain and finding them into the hallway before their escape. There would be time for that later, now it was time to rest. So they laid there, against one of the more in tact walls in the shadows, and reveled in the calmness of the day. Octavia felt safe and content, Lincoln's cool dark arms wrapped around her and she felt herself nodding off.

Until something distinct interrupted the normal forest noises.  


  


She felt Lincoln look up and Octavia followed  the gesture only a moment later. They could hear hoofbeats in the distance, moving towards their general direction pretty quickly. They looked at each other, Octavia confused but Lincoln thoughtful. Octavia was even more confused when Lincoln chuckled lowly to himself. 

  


Lincoln was piecing it together. He knew of the fondness the girl behind the commander had for the skiprisa and had been wondering how long it would take for the news of what happened when they ahd been first kidnapped would reach the ears of TonDC. He was pretty sure most of the camp had been grabbed, so scouts must be aware. He wondered if she's be able to resist when the Commander had heard of what happened to the Skykru at the dropship. While she contained herself and had been distant since the night she’s..ah.. met Clarke, Lincoln recognized the same lightness and confidence in her step as she'd had when she'd first been besotted by Costia come TreKru. After she'd died a year aago, there as only the commander. Until lately.

  


 After Octavia gushed and asked about the girl named Heda, Lincoln figured the Heda was taking a bit of a persona vacation. But she wouldn't ignore this for much longer. Pulled from his amusement of the Heda, he heard Octavia repeat her question.

  


Octavia didn't understand what was happening. They were being cornered, who know the fuck would happen if they had to fight in broad daylight. She’s probably go blind forever. Lincoln was supposed to be the season experienced grounder, stoic in the face of shit. And here he was chuckling as if she was anticipating a rewarding punchline.

  


“What..What are you laughing?? What’s  is going on Lincoln?” She demanded, voice raising in volume in her bafflement. She arched a brow eyebrow at him asher red eyes narrowed a bit in annoyance. He shook his head, eyes far less serious than the red would imply. 

  


As the hoofbeats drew to mere minutes away, Lincoln approached as close to an opening as he dared and raised his fingers to his lips, whistling out a few different notes clearly. Octavia scrunched her eyebrows “Dammit Lincoln-”

  


But she stopped, because the hoofbeats did. And a noise similar to what Lincoln just did responses, but it was different, lilting higher and feminine as if questioning and feminine, but still demanding.

  


Once more a pair of sounds went back and forth, Lincoln understanding that it was just the commander and a friend, alone and safe, and she was summoning him. He answered in a follow or come here message, and something like good news, and began to wrap firmly against the wall. Slower hoofbeats approached their hut and the quiet sounds of someone getting off a horse as soft footsteps approached the door. Lincoln called out in his first language. <“Everything is safe Commander of the twelve, I am trekru, lincoln, and all is secure.”>

  


Octavia only picked up the strange bits of  that Lincoln managed to explain to her so far, because the tattered door pushed open as two people entered. Octavia stared as if sure the mountain men would swarm the doorway and steal her back again. She felt caged in, claustrophobia settling in before trying to shake it off. She was stronger now. She would protect herself. She steeled herself for whatever happened next but Octavia was completely confused to realize it was grounders. And one was very familiar.

The Commander who’d helped Lincoln save her along with a giant of a man darkened the doorstep. That was all.  


Now that Octavia understood the power and purpose that radiated off the Commander, her appearance and how it made everyone around her react made much more sense. She was dressed in the slimmest of armor, with only her standard shoulder armor and sashes along with what seemed like handily adorned wristbands and weapons. Her makeup though, was different. Instead of the usual raccoon like mask, it was closer to her eyes, but with lines coming down like fierce tear marks. Heda Lexa strode in tense, demands and questions and a heavy dread held too closely in the surface of her eyes. There was a black cat draped across her shoulders, comfortable but eyes wide and tense.

The small statured person growled out a commanding warning, laced with distress. “Lincoln..”

Lincoln only smiled warmly at her, and Heda noticed for the first time that his teeth were sharper than normal. Her drive was thrown for a moment at the sight of someone so familiar seem so different. She knew he was captured and escaped too, but did something happen while he was prisoner? There were many grounders believed to be taken from their lands but no one had ever returned like this. But she was distracted to where he gestured to large bundles curled up on the floor. 

She saw the closest, the exile first, and her lip curled up eyes sparking in outrage. Lincoln cleared his throat and muttered “No, not her.” Heda looked to him in warning before back to the other person on the floor next to the former TreKru feeling instantly broken and put back together. Emotions that didn't make sense, but did, flooded through her and blew out her senses. She laid a hand on Clarke's face, which had been scrunched up as if in a bad dream, but at Heda's touch her brow smoothed out, Heda found herself not for the last time soaking up the few last moments.

Ar’in seemed to agree because as soon as the Commander's hand touched Clark's cheek, the short black cat jumped the close distance from her usual perch on the armored shoulders of the commander's shoulders to the floor and approached Clarke's unconscious body. On much too short legs Ar’in smoothly but softly paced towards the sleeping girl, as if approaching a wounded or distressed animal.  She gingerly licked Clarke's cheek, as if nursing her or seeing if she was okay. Heda crinkled her nose as her eyes burned for a moment, realizing the cat's initial concern was similar to how the creature approached the cat who was killed by the bear.

Her fingers curled on Clarke's check, fearing this was a bad omen from her familiar. Her stomach clenched, but relaxed somewhat as Clarke reacted and huffed out a sleepy noise of happiness.

The cat seems to be satisfied as she walked down a bit and burrowed herself under Clarke's arms. The sleeping girl was all too happy for the purring teddy bear and she curled on it, her hazy dreams taking on warmer moods.

Heda Lexa felt herself thaw at the sight, allowing herself to forget everything but the sight of Clarke holding Ar’in. It was unusual for Ar’in to be so affection towards anyone else but her, but Heda was starting to realizing in the short time she’s met this girl, normal might not apply.

She barely heard the two behind her, one feminine voice asking a barrage of questions in a not at all whisper. Masculine amused half answers were muttered back. Lincoln knew, Heda mused as she began to ignore them in earnest, just staring. She needed to leave before Clarke woke, now that her blinding need for the girl to be safe was assured for the moment, she needed to return to her duties and responsibilities. This shouldn't happen, Clarke could not be her responsibility.

But just for a few minutes longer, she could be. Heda let her fingers run through Clarke's hair as she brushed strands she imagined might bother her out of her face. She ripped a cloth from her sleeve and dabbed some water from her water skin. Taking a few moments she rubbed some of the dirt away, murmuring admonishments about getting into trouble. "Next time I might not be patient enough and just come save you myself." She whispered lowly.

Octavia’s eyes were as wide open as possible with the mid afternoon early evening sun coming in through the walls. She went from staring at Heda’s gentleness with Clarke back to Lincoln who watched on, as if looking on a happy friend. He dodged most of her questions and finally cut her off, not wanting her to ruin this once point of calm for his Commander, who he loved dearly. But he understood it could only be for a moment.

He looked back to her, eyes pleading for her to understand. Their redness a warm earthy color. “Later Octavia, but as far as anyone is concerned, she was not here.”

But she is” Lexa muttered, finally remarking on the other girl who was for her sake, still completely unconscious. The commander looked to Lincoln coldly, “it is treason to suffer exiles Lincoln.”

Octavia stepped forward. “She escaped the mountain with Clarke. I don't know what happened, but Clarke might never have gotten out of there without her. She saved one of ours.”

“She cannot stay with our people.” Lexa answered her coldly, but with perhaps a sliver of something long forged in her eyes.

“Fine then, we’ll take-” but she was cut off by a strong dark hand clasping over her mouth muffling her treasonous reply.

The Commander's mask was firmly back in place as she coldly demanded, “do you remember our first conversation Octavia come Skykru, where i mentioned taking in exiles was treason?”

Octavia's eyes widened, but then shone with despair and defiance.

Heda continued “Nevertheless, while she is here, Lincoln is right. I am not. Ryder found you in the woods as was his normal patrol. With you three he also found a Skycrew girl that he did recognize and he never heard a name. Cla-… no one can know I was here. Please” and her eyes went to Octavia, It wasn't a demand, it was a request. Octavia found herself nodded slowly, helplessly. If it was someone being arrogant and superior, she could lie easily. But it was the desperation of someone trying to keep terrible worlds separate that Octavia only had the barest idea of. So she agreed. 

  


But she didn't like it.

  


The commander looked to Lincoln, whose face was one of obedience. Whatever his commander called for her, would obey. Now Heda had a clear head to focus on him and Octavia, and she added. “Upon meeting up with Ryder, Ryder and Lincoln agreed that Lincoln would return to TonDC and meet with his people, there is much to discuss."

Lincoln nodded, understanding and accepting the questions. He stared back, a look of permission asked for in his eyes. Heda understood the need for reassurance, it'd be a hypocrite to deny her actions a few minutes ago and nodded, stepping off to discuss further plans with Ryder giving them a moment of space.

“She doesn't want Clarke to know, so Clarke cannot know. She is trusting you with this now. Heda’s trust is precious and dangerous. She is my leader, I must return to her and be open about what has happened. You understand?”

Octavia nodded, concerned but Lincoln would always be TreKru, and this was his way. She admired his people over her own. She nodded permission, not wanting to cause friction between the only other person like her anymore.

“I'd like a talk after you're done there then, got some things to discuss myself” she smirked, her tongue catching on her canine in playfulness as her eyes held a deeper sense of needing to understand the new this that it was.

Wanting to get as must distance back to TonDC as possible before the sun set, Heda makes for the door as Lincoln hesitates in the shadows. Heda Lexa raises an eyebrow wondering why he resisted now after agreeing to follow her back. She turns and tilts her head in confusion as only the vexing of a trusted friend can bring. Octavia tenses as Lincoln mutters back to her, his sharp teeth dangerously worrying his lower lip. Heda is distracted by it but not enough to miss his next words.

  
“Perhaps there is one conversation that cannot wait.”


	22. Whatever It Was

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad Guy: My information is correct. You are the woman who loves the Doctor.   
> River Song: Yes, I am. I've never denied it. But whoever said he loved me back? He's the Doctor. He doesn't go around falling in love with people. And if you think he's anything that small or that ordinary, then you haven't the first idea of what you're dealing with.   
> Bad Guy: Your Majesty, I assure you, she is the perfect bait. When this woman is in danger, the Doctor will always come.   
> River: Oh, you are a moron. No, he won't.   
> Bad Guy: He's probably already here.   
> River: No, he isn't. Of course he isn't! God knows where he is right now, but I promise you, he's doing whatever the hell he wants and not giving a damn about me! And I'm just fine with that.... When you love the Doctor, it's like loving the stars themselves. You don't expect a sunset to admire you back. And if I happen to find myself in danger, let me tell you, the Doctor is not stupid enough, or sentimental enough, and he is certainly not in love enough to find himself standing in it with me!

The Commander stilled at the door, while Ryder was closer to Lincoln near the darker corner. He watched the smaller man closely. He only knew him because his mate and he were close friends. Nyko was the main healer of their clan, and Lincoln always prefered that to being a warrior. Unfortunately he was very good at being a warrior, minus the blood thirst.

Now though, it did not take close friendship to see that this man was changed. He seemed more coiled and agile. Obviously his eyes were different. Not just the color but the awareness. As if seeing things differently. Lincoln was squinting into the light of day, his mouth occasionally stretched widely to reveal teeth that were certainly unnatural. Yet he did not act a monster, so Rider did not move his hand towards any of his weapons, yet. He was more concerned with his Commander's safety, and subtly walked towards the door to stand between her and the others in the room, ready to stand in the way if only to buy her time to escape. He did hope he would get the chance to see his mate once more, though he supposed that was often a man's wish before facing death.

While keeping his eyes on an increasingly tense Lincoln, he made sure his eyes weren't aggressive, more so sheepish. As if he didn't think there was a threat, and he hoped the other knew appearances were necessary. It was a bit of an act on his part, his nerves on edge because he wasn't completely sure. He hoped the tension he was feeling was masked.

Lincoln seemed mollified as he immediately began to explain, seeing the look in the Commander's eyes before she unconsciously darted to check on the sleeping blonde again, checking her state of consciousness. Seeming satisfied she looked back to Lincoln, and he knew she couldn't hear what he heard. Clarks breathing was changing, shallowing as if getting close to consciousness.

But the Commander was still an expert at insight, and did see something on Lincoln's face. She looked back again to Clarke and bit her lip as if time was ticking down.

Octavia, much ignored for too long, felt restless. Seeing the tense standstill between several people that could do some serious damage, she decided to just jump and deal with the fallout. Before the grounders arrived, she had a lot of time to think about what happened when she stepped into the sunlight. As the minutes as hours went by, she reflected on how it made her feel, and she realized that the fear of losing her eyesight was just an immediate shock. She mused that after stepping back into the shadows she could see again anyway, there was no lasting harm done. Plus, blindness aside, it was an interesting feeling.

So she took a deep breath, and stepped away from Lincoln, who half heartedly reached for her. She leaned away from him and took three steps into the biggest ray of sunlight that came through the broken wall. 

The warmth she felt drowned out any yells or gasps of concerns. She willingly kept her eyes closed until it didn't feel like an effort. Breathing in deeply, the sensations calmed her and she felt her skin strengthen. She held her arms out and fingers splayed as the wide stance began to feel natural, as if she grew to that pose. 

She felt wind blow around her, calmly. Perhaps it was more of the energy around her. It wasn't as if she saw colors, because her eyes were of no use now. But certain directions and distances felt warmer or cooler. She wasn't sure what it meant, but she was relaxed enough to feel as if she had all the time in the ages to figure it out. She felt her chin duck, as if relaxing down into her core.

Then abruptly, she felt uprooted and jerked into a cool path of air. Suddenly the sense of timelessness fast forwarded into normal time, as Octavia remembered what the normal passage of time felt like. Her yes opened to find herself in the arms of Lincoln, and she looked into wide red eyes so full of concern Octavia couldn't help but lean in to kiss him and grin into his lips. He growled in pleasure and possessiveness as he pulled her in closely and nuzzled her neck. His hands roamed her sides, feeling her skin. It looked back to normal as soon as she was in the shadows, but he needed to be sure. She laughed, muffled into his neck as the two others looked to each other with eyes blown wide in bewilderment.

Octavia pulled away, hearing the breathing and other heartbeats that made her remember they weren't alone with the two unconscious girls.

Lincoln looked to his commander as his sense cleared, his arms still wrapped around Octavia.

“Tonight?”

She wasn't sure what she saw, the spirits did not prepare her for this. Heda's instincts of politics and dignity took over then and she nodded. “Tonight then, after Ryder helps you back camp. I have questions Lincoln com Treekru.”

Lincoln nodded resolutely, comforted at least, by her acknowledgement of him as her people, and Heda had no stronger loyalty and protectiveness that how she cared after her people. Heda left moments before the blonde finally began to stir, wrapping her arms around the warm pillow in her arms as it shifted and mewed indignantly in her ear.

An eye cracked open as she looked down to see Ar’in in her arms. But she hadn't seen the cat since Heda left with her on her shoulders. Was Heda here? She looked up at the group, not seeing who she was looking for in her half dreamy eyes but her vision cleared as she realized that there was a new person. While a giant of a man, Lincoln and Octavia were relaxed meaning he wasn't a threat, so Clarke held the fight or flight instinct at bay. She was, at least in majority, among friends.

“So, what did I miss?” The blonde asked. “Are we safe? Why is Heda's famila-” and fortunately that train of thought dissipated until much later in the night as the grounder female began to stir next to them. All the eyes in the rom turned to look at her, with different reactions.

Lincoln sighed and looked to Octavia, already knowing she was thinking of a speech to CLarke. Ryder looked like he was trying to ignore this entire situation until it was resolved. Plausibility deniability, selective deafness.

Clarke’s eyes only darted around the room once, before settling on the one person who'd most likely spill the story. And she did.

“There's something we need to talk about right now Clarke, and it's about her.” OCtavia said, and it was the first thing the girl who died as Anya first heard as her large eyes fluttered open and she cast around the room. She herself felt rested, as alien as the feeling was. Reality melted her shell of calmness as she felt Clarke's sleepy confused eyes turn to her. 

Lincoln's voice interjected, and Clarke noted how the pair seemed to hiss a bit on certain words.

“She was banished from our people. Anya..is dead to us. She can never return or lay claim to her heritage or name.”

To her credit, the grounders eyes only fluttered for a second as the harsh reality brushed away any calm feeling she's woken up with. Hearing her discussed as ones whose respect and name were stripped away and destroyed. She always felt such pride and assurance, but that was all gone now.

“What does that mean?” She asked, surely she wouldn't be asked to serve this girl who mutually helped her escape from the hellish Mount Weather. Felt like moments ago really, she was go glad to see any familiar face. Clarke narrowed her eyes, sitting up in the blanket nest she slept the better part of the last day asleep in. At her motion, and the seized attention, Ar’in climbed over Clarke on her short furry legs before curling into the lap covered in blankets. After one turn she settled down, seeking a real nap now that her charge was better. Clarke merely continued her subconscious stretching of the ears of the black bundle on her lap, content to have this extension of Heda with her. 

The female grounders eyes narrowed, “I don't need pity, I don't want your pity. I'll survive because I am strong. And she pulled herself to sitting before standing on shaky legs that stride forcefully towards the door in the waning daylight.

Octavia interjected, but didn't make to move after her. She looked to the blonde desperately. “Clarke, if we don't take her in, she’s alone on the ground. Hed-ah-uhhh.. He, you know, Lincoln.. ah he said..." And Clarke's eyes narrowed as she looked down to the cat in her lap with a calculating look on her face. The female grounder near the door only paled at the thought of her Commander seeing her, being within eyesight was grounds for immediate execution for breaking exile. She stilled, mollified for a moment as she thought over the implications. The words of Octavia not really registering. Clarke heard though, and rose to her feet. Ar'in climbed effortlessly to rest on her narrow shoulders. After a moment to steady herself she closed her eyes, ears twitching whenever someone spoke. Clarke approached the grounder by the door, still listening to Octavia.

"Lincoln says that if a grounder is exiled, they can never go home again. They can be killed on sight. So either we part ways now and she goes off to live alone in the woods, or she comes back with us and we shelter her in secret until..." Trailing off, she looks to Lincoln for help.

Lincoln spoke, his voice technical and firm. "She knows much about survival, she can be very useful. The reasons for her exile are unspeakable topics, but she has much knowledge in many areas." His voice lowers as he looks to the female grounder kindly and mutters out lowly, "she is a critical ally to have..."

The owl faced girl met his gaze with gratitude before looking back to Clarke. She'd just gotten out of hell, a hell none of her people ever had escaped from before. But now she didn't even have a people, or a home to return to. There had to be more to life than this, there had to be more to everything she thought exists. She looked to Lincoln, who nodded only slightly. She sighed and looked again to Clarke.

"You didn't need to help me get out of the mountain, Lincoln and Octavia would have found you. I can help your people train and protect themselves, if you consent to your protection and secrecy..." and she offered a hand out to Clarke. Clarke griped her forearm and shook.

After a brief moment of contact, Clarke was confused to feel the determined tug from the exiled grounder before the girl in question dropped to a knee, head bowed.

"I swear loyalty and fealty to you, Skiprisa Clarke, Commander of the Skykru people."

Lincoln mutters a question only Octavia can hear, and she shakes her head muttering questions back. Lincoln merely laughed out loud, breaking the befuddled spell that encircled the other two, both looked over glaring.

Lincoln raised his hands apologetically and asked, "Octavia said no one has sworn loyalty to you in this way before, is that correct?" At this the grounder on her knee looked up and back to Clarke, a sense of victory in her eyes. 

Clarke was lost, totally lost and slowly responded back, confusion almost causing her to stutter, "I've never heard that, no."

"And you are the commander of your people?" He pressed, and Octavia started to smile, getting a bit of understanding. Clarke hadn't caught on yet.

"I mean, we all really..." And Octavia shot her a disbelieving look. "I mean, I guess?" Something with her answering.

At this the grounder rose, head still bowed in respect. "As the first to swear to you, I become your second."

A strangled choke of confusion was Clarke's only response.


	23. FAN EXPO-MEET-UP-COSPLAY (Temp Title lol)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Authors Note: You should feel loved, a cosplayer is writing this the night before a con instead of working on her cosplay!! Actually I'm running off every few minutes to add a layer of paint, so I guess you aren't too awful :P But please, I beg you. If you are going to Fan Expo 2016 in Toronto, and you see a spider woman cosplay (Mattie Franklin, google it) come say hi so we can be best friends!!
> 
> And now, for something completely different..

 

“Moderate strength is shown in violence, supreme strength is shown in levity.” G.K. Chesterson, author of All Things Considered.

 

 

Clarke was confused to feel the determined tug from the exiled grounder before the girl in question dropped to a knee, head bowed.

"I swear loyalty and fealty to you, Skiprisa Clarke, Commander of the Skykru people."

Lincoln mutters a question to which only Octavia can hear, and she shakes her head muttering incomprehensible questions back. Lincoln merely laughed out loud, breaking the befuddled spell that encircled the other two, both looked over glaring.

Lincoln raised his hands apologetically and asked, "Octavia said no one has sworn loyalty to you in this way before, is that correct?" At this the grounder on her knee looked up and back to Clarke, a sense of victory in her eyes.

At this the grounder rose, head still bowed in respect. "As the first to swear to you, I become your second."

A strangled choke of confusion was Clarke's only response.

  
The silence that followed was interrupted by Octavia chuckling. Lincoln watched on, staring at the girl before Clarke. While not unheard of, it was unusual to become someone's second in that way. Although, new leaders of new peoples was even rarer. The girl raised her head to look at Clarke in the eyes, wondering how things would proceed from here. It wasn't an idea path of destiny, but she did not quit. She would not fail.

Clarke looked at the strange but familiar faces of people she trusted with her life, had already trusted with her life. Feeling strange for ignoring the girl closest to and staring at her, she looked to Octavia and then to Lincoln.

“What does...this mean? Is she my people now?” She asked, eyes tightening with effort as she tried to ignore the snobby smirk that broke through the females grounders strange new mask of deference and respect.

“Well…” Lincoln started, unsure how to form the words so these people would understand. “Not..Yes..But…” And he scratched the back of his head, unsure still but voicing what he knew.

“As your second, she is your advisor and warrior. She safeguards you above all.” And Clarke just stared back, confused as the escalation of responsibility. She was drawn back tho the girl in front of her who looked back, muttering, “Remember Commander.” and Clarke winced, she didn't know who the real Commander was, but she wasn't her, but the girl continued.

“I have no where else to go, and I can help. It’s dangerous, and I am your second...” Biting her lip, she stepped forward into Clarke's personal space.

“Regardless of your stubborn foolishness.” And she stepped back, and walked out the door. “I’ll scout till our nightwalkers can leave with us.” Was her only parting remark, Lincoln and OCtavia looked to each other in alarm before at the back of the exiting girl and the still confused glazed over expression on Clarke's face. Perhaps they didn't realize (or couldn't control) the calculating look they cast back to Clarke, assessing her reaction to the title. They hadn't gone into details or theories with her, she was out cold when they voiced the darkest rumors of what they might be now, after all.

Clarke felt like she never had before, even when cornered and fighting off guards or mountain men. It was over in an instant, but Clarke felt several terrible possibilities if she turned away these people or alienated them in any way.

SHe raised her hands outward and up, in surrender, and wasn't comforted by the relaxing tension in the room proving it existed in the first place. “I dont know whats going on, I'm not going to pretend to. But Octavia, you are my people...and Lincoln, you are a true friend. I owe you my life.: She approached them, slowly, arms still up. “I'm good if you're good?” SHe asked jokingly, and their corresponding laugh before both grabbed her arm and shook was all she needed to mostly shake the feeling of being hunted from her nerves.

  
An hour or two later, Clarke’s second returned as the sun was almost completely set. After a few tries Lincoln and Octavia were satisfied with the dimness. Leaving it how they found it, the four departed the abandoned shack and made the short trek back to the Dropship.

She hoped that someone was there, perhaps they were the only ones taken. But hope was dangerous, and steeled herself for the worst. Reeling from the near death experience, she just wanted to be home. Find home.

He was already running through what he would say, and what his Commander would ask. He wasn’t sure what awaited them all when they got back to their camp, but figured it wouldn’t be good. He was used to these types of kidnappings almost, people always went missing. He assumed the Skykru would not be so defeated.

She desperately hoped her brother was safe, that he hadn’t been taken. She was scared he would turn from her, scared he wouldn't see her as family anymore. A part of her hoped there was a mountain man or two for her to hunt as well, her tongue tracing over her teeth predatorily.

She was throwing herself fully into the role, deciding to take it as seriously as possible. Best case scenario, she would atone for herself to her former commander by protecting her new beloved and her people in a way she could not. At worst, perhaps she would stubbornly integrate herself with new far inferior people in a servitude role. Better to serve in heaven than reign in exile.

Reaching the edge of the partial clearing of the dropship, Lincoln stilled them all with a raised arm. Tapping his arm, more like jabbering excitedly, he turned from his initial observation to see Octavia holding up a single finger and waving it around in a circle, question on her face. He nodded and leaned in, describing a few grounder whistles that she could communicate simple things. She nodded excitedly, always super interested in learning more about the TreKru. He smiled back at her, soft and admiring before she leaned in for a tight hug before running off. Clarke realized pretty quickly that she was running a perimeter around the camp. She returned far quicker than she should have been able to circle the area, not even breathing heavily. Lincoln raised an eyebrow and she shook her head.

“There appears to be no mountain men, nor anyone else.” She spoke directly to Clarke. Clarke nodded back, adapting to the free will of her new second. Concern and reality sweeping away the relief and relaxation at not finding anyone dangerous.

They could see the door to the dropship was closed as it had been, they more or less agreed, the night they were taken. It could mean some were safely secluded as the mountain men did a smash and grab. But they could not be too careful, realizing their foursome was the Skykru’s only chance to get out of the mountain’s clutches somehow.

The plan was that two would approach the door openly, and the other two would remain as backup or a tail if they were captured again. But who would stay and who would go was problematic. The female grounder refused to leave Clarke’s side, regardless of the blonde assuring her she didn't need that. Lincoln and Octavia didn't back her up though, figuring this was the grounder's mission not theirs. Lincoln was especially glad to see a sense of purpose and the stubborn will of the girl who was once Anya flare back up.

Lincoln and Octavia were the opposite pair, figuring that as the physically strongest they should split up. Lincoln didn’t even have to look at her, though he enjoyed doing so, to know which of them would approach the camp. If Bellamy was here, Octavia would see him as soon as possible.

Predictably, it was only Lincoln who stayed behind, watching them from a gathering of trees.

While it was quiet outside, Octavia felt she could hear or sense people inside the dropship[. Familiar people. As they reached the door, the female grounder sweeping the area for any movement. Octavia was confident there was someone in the ship, and she thought she could hear her brother. She she raised a hand and knocked on the door. Not aggressively, more lighter. She called out.

“It’s Octavia! Let us in!”

Almost suddenly the frantic scraping of heavy objects moved away from the door as the three outside raised n eyebrow at each other. After a few minutes the door pulled open to reveal Bellamy, searching out his sister and finding her with her eyes downcast. Not caring, he squeezed through the door and pulled Octavia in for a hug as he looked her over.

“Octavia! Are you okay! What happened? They said everyone was taken!”

Clarke looked horrified as well, and her eyes glased over trying to remember. Surely not everyone else, she’s only seen a few.

Octavia looked at him, shocked out of why she was avoiding eye contact at her horror that they had left people behind in the mountain. But then she remembered, as Bellamy squinted in the moonlight. “Octavia, are...your eyes?”

 

Heda Lexa, Commander of the Twelve Nations, sat staring into a small fire alone save for her second, Indra com Trakru who sat just quietly across from her. They were both waiting. Lincoln knew to come back to report as soon as the coast was clear. Any continued absence would only be excused if he was assisting in a crisis. The sooner he came, the sooner she would know everything was alright.

The Mountain Men and the Skykru were similar, much more alike than to any of her own people. She should be concerned at an alliance, not worried for the wellbeing of the girl she had just met. She had not told Clarke who she really was, a last ditch effort to remain distant. If the Skiprisa knew that Heda was a title rather than a name, and knew the power behind that name… It was better this way, it was too dangerous otherwise. a tight sharp pain tinged in her side. It faded as her thoughts roamed from Clarke, but it was unsettling nonetheless.


	24. Count the Cost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demons run when a good man goes to war.  
> Night will fall and drown the sun,  
> When a good man goes to war.  
> Friendship dies and true love lies,  
> Night will fall and the dark will rise,  
> When a good man goes to war.  
> Demons run, but count the cost.  
> The battle's won but the child is lost.

He looked at his sister for a moment, searching her new eyes for the girl he’d grown up with. After only a few seconds, he nodded and grinned. Pulling her in for a quick hug he muttered loudly, “I'm glad you're… okay Octavia, after I heard you were taken, just got back from scouting… Didn’t know what happened…” He shuddered as he pulled back, taking note of the other two around them.

He raised an eyebrow at the female grounder standing protectively between Bellamy and Clarke with a calculating look on her face. Clarke seemed exasperated but defeated as she noted his confusion with a shrug.

“Long story Bell, *who is a trusted friend*.” She said stressing out the rest of the sentence to the girl between them, at a lingering glare Clarke spoke again to Bellamy. 

“Could you just sort of.. Nod your head to me and let us by?” Confused, he nodded, bowing his head sufficiently to appease Clarke's Guard who then took a half step to the side, allowing Clarke to walk in front of her into the drop ship before entering herself.

Watching them go, Bellamy looked back to Octavia who stood in the same place, noting his confusion. She huffed in amusement. “Like the princess said, it’s a long story. Basically Clarke saved her life and rescued her from The Mountain Men’s cages, so now she guards Clarke. Lincoln says it’s legit. Anywho, to keep the nothing-to-lose grounder happy, again a long story, just nod along to Clarke and then argue her in private. I guess.” And Bellamy's face screwed up in confusion since her mention of Lincoln, ‘where was that grounder anyway.’ He had different questions running through his mind than he’d imagined he’d have when (if?) he saw his sister and their friends again. 

Octavia wasn't looking at him though, her attention drifted as she whistling to some darker area of treesaver that suffered to reveal another person. He barked out a warning to OCtavia, who seemed to be expecting it and turned to look back at him rolling her eyes. 

Lincoln merely stepped out of the forest cover and looked to Octavia, who made a very dramatic shooing motion. Only Octavia could make out the look of amusement on his face as he turned to go back to the Commander, who wouldn’t be patient for long. Bellamy recognized Lincoln before he disappeared back into the trees, and looked past him, hoping to see more of his people. But no one came. 

Bellamy turned back to her seeing the question in eyes reflected in hers. “Where are the others?” He asked, and she shook her head slowly, increasing sadly.. 

“Only four of us got out, Lincoln included. And he needs to return to his people once he saw we were safe. With their help we might.. Help get anyone else. Clarke mentioned only a dozen or so that she saw, but she got on bad terms pretty quickly and then...ah...escape time. C’mon, let's get the long story started then.”

Bellamy and Murphy secured the door behind them. Murphy raised an eyebrow at the Blake son, who mummered a few key points in his ear, causing him to look to Octavia curiously, who returned his look with a toothy grin. He merely nodded her win and looked back to Bellamy questioningly, who smiled and raised an arm to rest over Murphy s shoulders.

Clarke looked around the room, a dozen or so cats and not many kids. There was Bellamy and Murphy, FInn and Wells, a thinner brunette with hollow eyes and a shorter but stockier boy named harry, who was busy making sure the eldest cats, an older black haired and brown cats set of cats. Both white t their pints, sign of their age. They watched over the smaller of the lot, CLarke wondered aloud if the cat on her shoulders would be missed, if someone should should return her home. Octavia hesitated before smirking and saying that her owner would return for her soon enough.

A blush swept up Clarke's face and Octavia turned to speak with Bellamy again before the blonde could react. After settling the blinded cat into a nestle of blankets, Finn was helping Wells care after the three legged cat, the wound was healing nicely it seemed, but there was still a long way to go. Perhaps the grounders might have more medicine that could help. More medicine always helped. Feeling Ar’in shift on her shoulders, she knelt down close to the ground and the cat nimbly jumped down before roaming around the room. SNiffing and nuzzling the remaining cats, grooming the smallest ones.

Clarke noted numbly, watching this extension of Heda, that while before the count o f the colony was slowly declining, something about the stress of the animals and danger brought them back here. Was it some sort of sense that made them seek shelter before or while the mountain men came for her own people? Maybe someone should keep a closer eye on their actions.

Her eyes caught on one of the smaller kittens, a silver flat nosed little guy who seemed to be the most active being in the whole dropship.

Ted Nugent was restless, he hated being cooped up. He approached the familiar slender black cat with the big ears and puffed up. His tiny tail three times its normal size, tiny ears folded back as he warned the cat in front of him. This black cat approached him. Leaned over to scruff him against his furiously tiny howl that was quickly cut off as she carried him to a corner and began grooming him against his will. He wouldn't stand for such..well, maybe for a few minutes. It was awfully scary before, even for a hero such as he. While, just before he had tugged the silver kittens back into the den before monsters invaded. He, single-pawed, saved them, Percival and Gwaine, he named them. Bit dim tho, those two. But they were safe, with the eldest cats, Gaius and Alice. So things were good, and a hero deserved his reward.

So he allowed himself to be kept and groomed for the short time, just a little while. When suddenly, the happy feelings were dimmed as the slender larger black cat raised her head at the sound of a few low whistles. Within moments she rose up and jumped up over a few chairs, cabinets, and ledges to reach the closest window. The humans in the room watched her curiously, but didn't make a move to stop her at the blondes staying hand. Reaching the window she climbed through and easily made the distance to the nearest tree branch, climbing down there to the ground where she picked up her human's scent. She quietly walked in that direction, stopping every few moments to sniff and listen for danger.

Details were groggy, which only frustrated everyone further, going over their story and what they were doing that night and in the meantime. The brunet radiated tension, and hadn't relaxed yet. Murphy stood just behind Bellamy, biting his lip in concern. The frustration was radiating off of him, and was past the point of any sort of reassurance. Murphy sighed, just watching him. He was shit at planning anyway, and figured the sky princess would somehow manage to save them all in the end anyway so it hardly mattered what a peasant like him thought up. The Sky Princess, though, was instantly and still distracted by the black cat leaving through the window, and Octavia saved her.

“Oh just go already, try to be back by sunrise though” and she winked, Clarke nodded distractedly, and walked stiffly towards the door at the front of the drop ship. Her eyes darting towards where she think the cat might have went, honing in on the strange noise she heard that preceded the Arin's sudden departure.

So she left, and saw the black cat steady striding out in a particular direction. So she followed, never questioning why or where.. because she perhaps already knew.

“There are no heroes...in life, the monsters win.”   
― George R.R. Martin

Lincoln finally stepped through the trees to where his Heda and Indra sat around the fire. He noticed that Lexa looked to his shoulders, and her eyebrows creased a moment in worry as she did not see her familiar returned safe and sound. If anything had happened…

Lincoln smiled reassuringly as he sat between the two at the fire. He took care to avoid Indra for now, he was sure the Commander mentioned something about him, but he wanted to ease into the confrontation and questions he knew to expect but unsure how to react to.

“Ar’in chose to remain with Clarke.. the girls who escaped the mountain are all well and have returned to their people. I left as soon as their camp was secured and they met up with their own people. Ar’in seemed interested in remaining. It seems that many more of the Skykru are now prisoners or worse within the mountain. There is only a dozen or less remaining.”

Lexa toyed with a dagger, listening stoically to his story thus far.

Lincoln sighed, knowing there was more to discus, and the Heda’s patience was never a lasting guarantee, only for now and he rushed to focus on what was important.

“We heard rumors, legends of the mountain men experimenting on our people. It is true, they did something to myself and Octavia com Skykru. Something called Morpheus. We were given things, and tortured by light. Lincoln widened his eyes imploring at both people, noting how Indra's eyes widened in surprise only for a moment, before looking to her commander for reassurance. She must have found something there, because her mask of indifference but vigilance took over again.

The low but calm voice of their Commander interrupted their stare. “You will remain in TonDC Lincoln, and continue filling Indra in with what you know. Perhaps some sparring, before the sun rises. Perhaps after..” She said evenly, duty to understand everything telegraphing in her eyes. Lincoln nodded as she stood upright, brushing her trousers as she turned back towards her horse.

Indra rose up, “Commander?”

“I will see the state of the SkyKru with my own eyes. If their numbers are truly decimated, or if they are preparing for retaliation on the Mountain...TreKru must know." Sighing, she added, "demons run when good goes to war.” trailing off quietly, the words seemed picked by the spirit of the commander. She easily climbed her horse and with a few tuts and heeled gestures, the beast turned in the right direction and set off. 

 

“I have little doubt that when the knight had killed the dragon he was heartily afraid of the princess.” G.K Chesterton, author of All Things Considered

Slowing down only as she reached the outcropping of trees that circled the stifling quiet of the SkyKru. Seeking out reassurance, she whistled out a few notes, hoping Ar’in would know to return to her. She missed the familiar, and hoped that her vigil of Klarke was fruitful.

A few minutes later, she saw the familiar outline of a black cat stride confidently towards her. She got off the horse and approached the cat. Arin's large ears picked up human footsteps and flattened, prompting the commander to still before fully kneeling down so the feline might climb to her shoulders again, which she warily did. The Commander’s mind raced to narrow down the intruder. No suspicious person could know so quickly the familiar of Heda Lexa. Even then, no one expected her. Unless someone would understand the value of Arin's departure. And who else but…

“Heda?” Clarke asked, though she knew Ar’in would approach no one else so confidently. Even though the girl she met what felt like weeks ago, now she looked a bit different. A larger presence of confidence and power, even on her knees. Clarke tried to ignore the rush of sensation that made her knees clench as her mind wandered. Trying to focus she noted, definitely more armored and to her side a large but lean horse, Ar’in already on her shoulders as she rose from a crouched position into a proud tall stance. Her eyes betrayed her, Clarke could see just a bit of relief and longing there, maybe, it soon drowned in a mask she wouldn't understand for a long while yet, as the eye of fate realised in frustration.

“Klarke com Skykru,” This perfect, beautiful brunette acknowledged back, aware somehow that fate was ever keen. She bowing her head slightly to hide her eyes before she realized the submissiveness of the gesture. RIsing back up, she began to walk towards the girl, trying to steel herself against the open adoration in the blonde’s eyes. FInally they met, only a foot apart just staring at each other. 

“I’ve had a rough few days...” Clarke tried for casual, even though nothing about this felt remotely so. Her eyebrows crinkled at the end, and she leaned forward in exhaustion. "Pretty rough... "nough about me though..."

As the blonde leaned forward into her arms, the hardened warrior and so much more took a moment to inhale how relieving the presence of this girl was on her. She was dangerously relieved, secure. As she reflected on the Skiprisa's words, she realized the girl had leaned back to look at her expectantly.

"The commander just heard of your capture, hearing what happened, I couldn't stay away..." Heda exhaled and inhaled deeply, reassuring her senses that Klarke was safe..."

Clarke looked back at her, feeling as if the brunette was skipping over something important. A confused pout came over her face as she asked, “Bu-”


	25. Failure to Communicate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello again. Back with more of what likely brought you here in the first place. Shield thy eyes, oh innocent readers!
> 
> And you are welcome <3  
> Reviews appreciated on my..ah..technique  
> (That's totally what she said)

“Bu-”  as the girl in front of her leapt at her.

“Heard you were taken, would have come sooner but.. Commander has duties..” she muttered, nuzzle on the girl's neck, forcing the blonde's jaw to snap closed audibly. Clarke tried to control her mind, a wind of jealousy at this girl's devotion to her commander. But it was weak as her mind was overcome with contentment and pleasure by the dexterous hands of the grounder girl. She should want to press for more but something thin her made the girl seem so trustworthy, so important, pushing her away never crossed her mind. The cat at their feet merely snoozed on, unaffect and uncaring at being ignored.

Heda needed to protect her secrets, so she silenced her with her lips shutting off the world that ever stood in her way. Heda was sure Clarke felt her warring relief and panic, even if she couldn’t explain herself. Thankfully it was only a moment before Clarke returned the kiss, her hands and arms still held up and out to the side. And her senses blurred as she was pushed back into a tree trunk rather roughly, cutting the breathe from her lungs as she shifted to brace herself against the tree. She could feel the grounder’s tongue running over her lips and tongue, as as the Heda’s hands began to roam her sides, checking for other injuries. The grounder melded against her as her hands roamed her back and sides. Clarke steeled herself as much as possible not to wince whenever Heda brushed over a bruise or cut, not wanting to distract her from something much more important.  Clarkes only relevant injury was a sense of exhaustion and restlessness, but even that flitted away as she returned the girls thirst, just as passionately. The endorphins flooding her system brushed any other aches and pains to the back of her mind.

Finally, Clarke’s hands responded and sought out purchase on the hips of Heda. With all the layers, her fingers twitched in frustration to find purchase. Her hands reached under strange layers to seek out warm skin and fingernails scratched, eliciting moans from the other girl. It felt like an age before she finally felt the perfectly soft and strong waist of the brunette girl and her fingers curled in appreciating the smoothness they found there. Clarke nipped at Heda’s mouth, groaning her pleasure as she moved to kiss under Heda's ear breathing heavily enough to deafen Heda to anything else. And pity the mortal who interrupted her now.

The commander was trained for many things, many careful dexterous trailing with daggers, and knots, making quick work of the strange clasp knot thing that held Clarke's pants secure. Clarke gasped as she felt strong her slender fingers grasp at the ties to her pants, and for a fleeting moment Clarke looked back at camp, which was definitely not that far away. Though the lack of windows pointing in their general direction gave her a bit of solace as cool air fell on her stomach and waist.

Growling in victory she grabbed the back of Clarkes neck pulling her somehow even further into her grasp as her own mouth sought purchase on the wide display of Clarkes neck. Biting down and sucking deeply in arousal as her own hips pushing her hand, she reached down past the waistband of her undergarments.

Feeling how strong her fingers were as they searched downward, Clarke moaned and felt a new wave of heat race through her. It was almost too much, she already felt on the edge. The rough bark of the tree at her back helped her stay somewhat coherent, but it was a losing battle as Heda began to work her over.

Heda bite down harder, growling predatorily as her fingers felt how wet Clarke was for her, only her. She moved to kiss Clarke but only bite fiercely onto Clark's bottom lip  before her ind cleared as she tasted blood. Her hand pulled back for a moment as she began to sputter an apology. Clarke’s hips followed Heda’s hand as it began to move away as she leaned into and tried to pull the gorgeous brunette back before she could move too far and pushed her wrist back down, groaning loudly as Heda let her hand be moved back, anxious expression turned low and heated watching Clarke begin to ride Heda's fingers enrouaginly, no begging. She was begging for more. Licking and pecking at Clarke’s lip in apology, she began to circle Clarke's bundle of nerves with her index and middle mingers teasingly.

Clarke clenched her legs around the knee that was forced between them, and Clarke’s eyes opened and focused in a moment of lucidity as she took in how strong this grounder really was. Sending a few prayers to whoever was listening in thanks for her training and genes, Clarke to find the angle to reciprocate some of the attention she was getting.

Heda pushed her hands away as she twisted her wrist to bring two finger up and curling into Clarke’s center, her thumb now flicking Clarke’s hood quickly in pattern with her fingers curling in a beckoning motion as she searched for the spot that would bring the skiprisa apart.

Clarke cried out as Heda reached up deeply into her and pulled forward, hips beginning to buckle as the sensations grew too intense. Giving up on touching the girl back, her hands settled on her hips before losing purchase again as her hands whipped to her back against the tree, holding on there with white knuckles. Heda was distracted as the girls hands disappeared from her sides, thinking for a moment she was being refused she looked at the girls face and instead saw dawning rapture. Feeling invigorated, Heda bit down on Clarke's neck just ehind her ear and that was all it took to fling Clarke off the edge.

Everything went bright behind Clarke's shuddering eyelids. And it was suddenly too intense as a shock went through all of her nerves and did not relent, only growing stronger. Overcome she yelled out for a long moment before being silenced a few seconds later by Heda's free hand over her mouth to swallow the rest of the yell. Heda could feel Clarke spasm, squeezing her fingers as the continued curling up into her, forcing her to ride out the waves and not relenting as her thumb forcibly circled her clit. Watching her come undone, Heda felt a strong sense of pride and victory, as if she'd brought the mountain down single handedly, instead of bringing Clarke to her knees...single handedly. And she most certainly did not giggle to herself as she slowly lowered Clarke to the ground, or rather released her support to let the girl slowly slide down the tree as she pulled away in oversensitivity and gasps.

While Heda pulled her hand away, she took a moment to wait to meet Clarke's glazed over eyes as she tasted, growling lowly she savored the sweet taste of this girl. Clarke bit her sore lip and reached for the girl, wanting to return the favor and taste her. The brunette shook her head, with a smile and said, "Next time.." and met her in a slow, sensual kiss that was unlike their previous desperation, and she whispered promises of returning and affection that the commander heda of the 12 should not make.

Clarke sat where her knees finally gave out at the base of her new favorite tree on the ground. Perhaps it could be the new prayer or whatever tree thing, whatever Kane’s mo-

“You should return back to camp, I cannot stay.." Heda's voice broke her out of her thoughts.  "The commander has a long night ahead of her so I must go.” Clarke stirred to alertness, realizing she nearly fell asleep in sated contentment as her eyelids flickered open and her body began to pull itself up to her feet. She saw Heda smirk smugly as Clarke was cleared woozy.

As Heda turned to leave, a hand on her arm stopped her as she allowed herself to be pulled back into a slow kiss. One much less desperate and more emotions that are unacceptable. As Heda pulled back, allowing this one moment to continue another Clarke interjected some very unfortunate logic.

“I should go back with you, I escaped the mountain/ I can talk to your commander, help out. About time we met. No?”

Heda’s bemused face was overtaken by such wide eyes and guilt as she uttered, “You can’t. The commander… we.. I should have told you..”

Well, that had Carke reeling back out of her grasp as she realized. Heda lied! She was with someone alright..with the Commander!

And she pushed the girl away, staring her down with accusation and betrayal in her eyes before turning without a response and walked back to camp.

 

Heda let her go, of course. Watching and realizing that she either never should have gotten involved with the skycrew girl, or never lied about who she really was. Clarke was rightfully angered by her omission of her true identity. Perhaps it was too much of a lie. The commander would allow her space, Heda herself would have been furious and vengeful at being lied to, consider what happened with.. No, she wouldn't think of it.  It was the past, and hopefully Clarke would forgive her one day. Turning back, she hurried to her horse and set back out for TonDC. With Clarke safe, though furious with her, she had many important matters to go through.

 

"One of the deepest and strangest of all human moods is the mood which will suddenly strike us perhaps in a garden at night, or deep in sloping meadows, the feeling that every flower and leaf has just uttered something stupendously direct and important, and that we have by a prodigy of imbecility not heard or understood it. There is a certain poetic value, and that a genuine one, in this sense of having missed the full meaning of things. There is beauty, not only in wisdom, but in this dazed and dramatic ignorance."

G.K. Chesterson, author of All Things Considered

  
The eye of fate sighed and twitched, as if remembering a forgotten thing and turned to the North.

 

 

She clung on to the protectiveness of hazy dreams as long as she could. At the edges of her consciousness, it seemed lighter sometimes but then always darker. Raven welcomed the darkness, in here it was easier to deal with. Whatever madness was outside, wasn’t in here. And she was very glad for it. She would like to stay like this forever, but a tiny thought began to grow in power behind her closed eyes one particular moment. Some sort of dread and anxiety. Something terrible was waiting for her and she just wanted to close the door on it forever. She tried to reason with it, to let her be. But it insisted, she had to get out. She had to get up. But, please...no..

The voice wouldn't go away. It got worse, and Raven was starting to forget what the dark calmness felt like as the voice gained in power and changed, sounding less like a stern version of her and more like...

“Raven...wake up..please” The voice pleaded.

And the peaceful reality blew away, as she wrenched open her eyes to a very dimly lit hut and instinctively she rubbed sore wrists. Looking down at ropes cut at her feet, then to a small blade in Abby’s arms. 

“Wh..what’s going on?”

In the pale moonlight, Abby shakes her head. Raven thinks she looks haunted, more than after she.. that poor girl. How long ago... It was so hazy, Raven couldn't remember..

“Abby...how long-?”

“Not now. Now we need to go. Now.” And she pulls her up and away, peeking out the tent before pulling her along into the night.

Raven has the sense to steal a horse by the outside of camp and they set off for anywhere but here. There's a knapsack with a few provisions that get them through the night, aided by the adrenalin and terror than ran through them. It was so dark, neither realized they were both covered in that grounders blood and their own wounds.

 

 From the shadows the blonde prince watched them go, sneering for a moment before he relaxing and looking next to him, not daring to question orders. Queen Narcissus stood next to her son, eyes alight with anticipation and confidence. 

 

**finger guns**


	26. Keep Your Hand On Your Gun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “See, everyone got [excited] over the technology, and it was pretty incredible watching missiles fly down air vents, pretty unbelievable. But couldn't we feasibly use that same technology to shoot food at hungry people?”
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Today's tale follows many of our heroes, the eye of fate has much to check in on.

 

Heda Lexa, Commander of the Twelve, made the horseback ride back to her temporary home In TonDC in much slower time, taking up most of the day. Coming within a few hours of the city, She met Lincoln as the sun was setting fully.

The Commander raised her eyebrows almost witheringly. “Lincoln come TreKru, You were to debrief Indra on your capture in Mount Weather.” She waited, but still Lincoln was encouraged. He could see it, her patience. but knew regardless of their experiences and trust, he was in a delicate situation. Luckily, he never intended to deceive the Commander.

He nodded, attempting to confirm he did as ordered. “I spoke to Indra, and we sparred. There is much to learn about what’s happened to me. But, as you know, I was not alone. Octavia come Skykru has equal information as I. I thought she would be important for future talks.”

Heda relaxed but felt betrayed by the wave of amusement than ran through her. Heda knew, obviously, but allowed it. Nodding, she said, “It will be time soon to discuss the Mountain Men’s problem and a permanent solution. Go, bring Octavia to TonDC, but...  bring others as well, including the leader, their skiprisa.”

She leveled a challenging stare at him, which he did not rise or lower himself to react in any other way than obedience to, simply nodding dutifully.

“I and the trustworthy Skykru with the SkyPrisa will return within two days if all goes well.…” and as he trailed off, she nodded in understanding.  So they parted ways, Heda returning to her people to prepare for the SkiKru. It would be tense, and delicate. It was fortunate that she could introduce them one on neutral terms. They'd been fortunate to avoid any real unforgivable issues apart from perceived or possible treats.

Her mind, her young mind, tried to ignored the anxiety of seeing Clarke again. The girl had reacted so poorly to her true nature, and regardless of her guilt, the rejection hurt. If Clarke could not accept who she really was...

"Perhaps it is better this way" She muttered, questioning her decision to bring Clarke back to her. Still, she clung to a bit of the skykru hope, noting down things that would boast of her achievements, and perhaps something subtly apologetic and romantic.

 

Back a bit.

 

Clarke storms towards camp, trying to put any thought of Heda out of her mind. Failing pretty quickly, she hoped she was out of earshot by the time she gotten to cursing Heda’s name over and over. She felt pretty stupid, wondering how she was lied to by the Commander’s lover.

Wait..  

“Shit, this could be really bad.” She realized, slowing to a stop before tension and anxiety quickened her step again, and . Also nervous at retaliation from the Commander for… sleeping with a royal consort.

Clarke found herelf hurrying much faster back to camp, as short as it was away. Walking through the trees, she approaches the dropship to notice that the door is being opened slightly. Her ears pick up a yelp of alarm as two small streaks of white run out through the doors. Interestingly enough they seem to come right for her. She approaches the camp, waving to Bellamy and Murphy who follow the two tiny kittens towards her. They stopped in  surprise as they see her, then slowly make to the kittens. Clarke jogs to intercept them and scoops them up, trying to scratch both their cheeks with the same hand and succeeds, if their relaxing squirms and noisy purrs are anything to go by. She marveled that things so small could purr so loudly and passionately. In her arms, the kittens that were only known amongst their kind as Percy and Leon, dubbed so by Ted, purred.

She looked to the boys who stood shoulder to shoulder and watched her with different expressions. Murphy seemed begrudgingly expectant, as if he was just observing and would follow whatever Bellamy said. Together they walked the yards back to the dropship door, and she handed off the animals to a waiting Finn at the door. He merely took them back to Wells, who  checked them over for injuries and deposited them back inside the room with the smallest ones. Clarke didn't immediately follow, looking back to Bell and Murphy who followed her in.

Bellamy always seemed to stand an inch or so before Murphy, not just ahead of, but slightly in front of. In spite of their staring at her, Clarke couldn't help but grin and throw Bellamy a knowing smug look,  daring to gesture with her eyes to Murphy and then back to him. His expression reddened a bit, but he would deny that to anyone. Clarke opened her mouth, and while Bellamy raised an eyebrow in warning Clarke continue and said “Maybe Octavia would go out for a bit for now, hunt us some dinner? She’s good at night..” She said, eyes wide in hope. That her brother wouldn't fail his sister. Clarke didn't get to see his initial reaction, though he seemed fine before. But Bellamy was king of fine when fubar. “There's no mountain men in the woods for now.” She added, and that seemed to be that. Not that Murphy was remotely surprised.

As Octavia nodded, eyes brightening up as she nodded. Bellamy hesitated, never one to endorse his sister going out. She flashed a toothy smile of confidence, and nodded once. She walked past. But Clarke found herself grabbing Octavia's arm, stopping her in her tracks.

Octavia stopped more in surprise, confused as to what that meant. Looking at her, eyes wide and bright red. Sparkling in anticipation but fogged slightly by confusion. “I’ll, ah, follow you out.”

Outside, Clarke asked. “What...do you know of the Commander.. Are they..a..vengeful?”

Octavia tilts her head, thinking of the brunette girl and remembering some vague comments from Lincoln about the commander meeting Clarke. Apparently it was rather interesting. But, grounders and their secrecy. Octavia didn't feel comfortable telling any story, so her face became a bit obviously evasive. Clarke was bad at taking things the right way and tried to back off. Thinking Octavia would react very poorly, and possibly accidentally reveal her unknowing transgressions against the most powerful person on the ground.

Octavia saw Clark's face, and was a bit confused. Trying to stay impassive she merely responded with. “Yes Clarke, the Commander is known for her ..ah.. Protective and ruthless nature. She is a true leader. “ Leaning in, trying to look confident, in case Clarke was worried about being treated poorly or something, she eyed her knowingly “She protects what's her, and death would be too kind for anyone who challenged her protection and people.” Clarke turned away with,  “Cool thanks, get food now, see ya later. Don't die.”

Octavia stared at her, initially confused then brushed it off as she caught the scent of something interesting many yards to the west. She ran off, forgetting the line of thought that wondered what was bothering the sky princess now.

Inside the dropship, Clarke tuned out the conversations as no one directed anything toward her apart from confused or anticipate glaces. Those she could ignore and did. Clarke quietly saddles over to the slumbering blinded cat, and she gently pulls it into her lap and she leans up against the wall cross legged. It stirs only for a moment before the comforting warmth soothes him back to sleep. All things considered, life in the dark was pretty alright. On the other side of the room, outside of the pairs reflective bubble, Finn and wels care for the tripod on the makeshift exam table. The wound was healing, though the animal seemed distressed whenever wake as it tried to put weight on the phantom limb. In their desperation apparently. One of them dubbed the cat Pythagoras. The pair, along with a nearby and consistently quiet chuckled. Another boy, Harry, was still standing apart. Murphy thought he heard him muttering about  dreaming and waking, but that didn't make sense so he brushed it off and began making increasingly less subtle caresses of Bellamy's arms and back..

As that night passed, so did the next. The time line moving uneventfully for a short respite. The first night Octavia brought back a few rabbits just before dawn. And Finn and Bellamy were able to cook and prepare much of the meet. Clarke and Wells tried various methods of curing that they had read about, once upon an arc, and time went by. There was an unspoken agreement, or group denial, that they needed to recoup before reacting to what happened to all of their people. There were so few left to the skycrew.

 

The eye of fate looked in the now but also upward.

 

Sinclair was barely able to escape the room before their desperate back up plan, the escape ship, Exodus, launched. His place was on this ship, either they’d all get down.. Or well, they’d all watch brushing off the reality of a group of criminals landing, he entirely missed the explosion that followed. He felt it though, it shook the ship and his core shuddered as he knew that damage would be unfixable given their skeleton crew and lack of sustainable anything.

He stumbled into the first person he ran into in the hallway, his assistant, who’d in the past few minutes decided to throw the towel in and go out drunk in his untraceable flask. He sighed, Wick might not have been the most useless person he could have run into, but it was close. Grabbing and pulling him up, they read through doors that shuddered and tried to close them as their fault and frayed programming tried to reset or shut down.

The Ark has been crippled by the launching of the Exodus ship and Kane was knocked on the floor by someone who ran into him in the chaos and smoke. He felt dazed but realized he was lying on the floor. He pulls himself up and looks around the seemingly deserted Ark.  
Kane coughs and then tries to muster a lungful to bellow, and he manages to hold back the crack that threatens to break his voice. "Hello? Is anyone there?" But he breaks off into a cough once again, he almost misses it. His brain catches up as he hears a response, maybe. So he tries again/

"Hey, whose... Is someone there?"

The he sees them, through the smoke along the corridor. It is Sinclair who can barely find the concentration and oxygen to say much as whatever he attempts is drowned out in dry coughs. Kane sees omeone next to him. He thinks the person might be injured but it seems more being stuck. A few seconds pass where everyone looks at each other and tries to get a breath. Kane thinks he sees the boy waver and lean into the door he was stuck in, as if drunk. Kane eyes him distastefully, considering the circumstances, and then remembers him.

  
"It's Wick, isn't it, from engineering?"

 

Sinclair responds for him, nodding. "My apprentice."

  
Wick waves the judgement away, trying to focus on not slurring words. It would be really awkward if they knew he was drunk and Kane saw his other hand held his flask. his stuck hand. "Yeah, yeah. He had me come down here... the containment codes to keep the doors open are fried. …  I was slow, I messed up."

  
Kane sighed impatiently, wondering how he still had an arm, failing power behind the doors likely. That must have been it, as it was short work to free Wick's arm. Minutes later, Kane strode off down the hallway, beckoning them to follow.

"Let's go. If we survived, there could be others."

  
  


A bit downward, on the ground, That second night was a bit more eventful on the encounters scale. Out in the woods around the dropship held one of our heroes. Only an hour or so in, not driven yet by need to feed her people as there were bonus supplies with the lack of the usual mouths, Octavia was looking for something interesting.

There was a steady rainfall that started with a drizzled shortly after dusk that grew steadily. Hours later, now, Octavia felt the drops slowing, and then continue in a steadily increasing pattern all around her as she crouched in a tree. She stayed still,waiting, and finally the soft crunching of possible prey entered her senses.

A tall man, barely clothed, walked into her view. He was drenched with water and sweat, breathing heavily, looking around as if tensing for an encounter.

Octavia looked down on him as he passed directly under her, judging the distance before nodding surely to herself. She hissed loudly before rolling for a jump. As she pushed off, her novice feet betrayed her as the weight displaced some of the bark of the large evergreen in obviously cracks and a small showering of bark pieces on the ground around his feet. But she was already airborne before he could react. Lincoln immediately looked up, his face finding the time to smile as she tackled him to the ground.


	27. Yes, I’m talking to you this time.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When I awoke today, suddenly nothing happened  
> But in my dreams, I slew the dragon  
> And down this beaten path, up this cobbled lane  
> I'm walking in my old footsteps, once again
> 
> And you say, just be here now  
> Forget about the past, your mask is wearing thin  
> Just let me throw one more dice  
> I know that I can win  
> I'm waiting for my real life to begin 
> 
> Any minute now, my ship is coming in  
> I'll keep checking the horizon  
> And I'll check my machine, there's sure to be that call  
> It's gonna happen soon, soon, oh so very soon  
> It's just that times are lean 
> 
> And you say, be still my love  
> Open up your heart, let the light shine  
> Don't you understand  
> I already have a plan  
> I'm waiting for my real life to begin
> 
> On a clear day I can see, see for a long way
> 
>  
> 
> Your dear author finds herself playing the part of the villain in her life away from keyboard. Times get hard, and I get lonely.
> 
> Ah  
> nevermind
> 
>  
> 
> Let's do this.  
> Spent more time working on this chapter than anything before. It is a bit risky, hope you enjoy.

The scene opens to a dark room, the cold militaristic outlay gave away the inside of the dropship. Dirty grey walls uniform but broken by higher smaller windows that shouldn’t open, but were quickly modified to be able to do so.  The floorplan of common rooms this size were all the same, all had been adapted into living areas. Nowadays though, many were vacant and repurposed. Some weren’t, this one wasn’t.

 

There wasn't much in this room, save from two figures lying on a makeshift bed in the corner, far from the sparse windows that heralded the unknown. The moonlight reflected off their skin, a thin sheet covering them up to the waist. The moonlight was bright enough to highlight the toned features of the sleeping young men, Slender but toned, their bodies could tell stories. There is a relaxed air over the two that only happens in times like these, in the late hours of the morning. When each hour of day was critically important to their survival, hours spent at rest in calm and safety were to be treasured.

 

Waking with a sense of being watched, Murphy opens his eyes and looks around the room. He understands that he is, relatively speaking, in a safe place. Turning his head to the side to look at the face of Bellamy, Murphy smiles as he appreciates his fortune in landing him here. Seeing the man’s arm curled against his own body behind him, he reached for Bellamy’s palm, fingers interlocking as the other unconsciously curls his fingers welcomingly. Murphy pulls the arm gently over him as a blanket, and Bellamy shifts to curl around the slimmer man, Murphy is back asleep within moments.

 

Breathing out a sleepy sigh, the larger man seems to stir. Bellamy Blake welcomed the affection, but it still jostled him nonetheless. ANd while he relaxes and his breathing evens out, it takes another long few minutes for him to fall back asleep again. This time, with Murphy wrapped in his arms.

 

This night seems to pass uneventfully until something changes in the air as the night passes another hour or two, or three. It’s hard to keep track until something shifts. You notice it immediately. After a few minutes of quiet, the smaller figure opened his eyes again and scanned around. He didn't move, didn't fight for a weapon as if threatened, but he looked. As his eyes moved, they caught on something.

 

They caught on you.

 

Sighing deeply, Murphy carefully and slowly disentangled himself from the man wrapped around him before he sat up and moved his legs over the edge of the makeshift bed to stand up. Looking back almost epantly but perhaps a bit regrettingly he observed Bellamy. The battle-ready larger man sighed, but did not stir. Odd.

 

Always watchful of him, it took some time before Murphy looked back.

 

Before he looked back to you.

 

He then sighed. And nodded to the doorway. “Outside then, I still don’t trust you regardless…Too fickle.”

 

Murphy is staring ahead still, eyebrow raised as if feeling the moments and followed in confusion, he sighed again. “Just..follow…” He mutters, slowly walking out, and you.. Well, you’ve been following his story for so long. And you don't dare stop now, so you read, observing his movements down the corridor you remember seeing but not reading. Descriptions can be so time confusing after all.

 

In the space of a new paragraph you find Murphy sitting at a nearby campfire. It seems illogical,  surely so soon after the mountain thing, they wouldn’t da-

 

“We’d know, if we were spotted.” Murphy says, scoffing and gesturing to his right. The eye of fate stared, then looked upward.

 

Things have only gotten worse on the Arc. After Abby and Raven left, moreso after what they did, it wasn’t a surprise that half of their meager numbers rose up under someone who promised them a chance.

 

But it happened then, and now was the real problem. Because now the Arc is full of smoke. At least it is where Kane, Sinclair, and the sobering Wick are trying to rally the ill fated troops. There's so much chaos it is hard to focus/ You hear the chancellor's voice, but it's broken. Must be communicating through the com system which makes sense as it's as jacked up as the rest of the ship.

 

Between the broken communication from Jaha, Marcus Kane can be heard responding, or trying to as he coughed in the heavy fog of the smoke coming from too many places at once. He sounds relieved but dreadful, but it’s too chaotic to decipher his words. Everyone seems to be yelling, people searching for survivors. But there don’t seem to be many, maybe a few over a hundred souls still saved on the Arc. That’s different, this time. Curious, this development.

 

Reality is cut off as the eye of fate loses concentration. You’re back where you were, hearing Murphy laughing, his eyerolls and insults somehow brought you back down to the ground.

 

“If you could ignore your friend, this would go better.”

 

“I resent that.” another voice said, the strange haunted boy with the wide eyes that shouldn’t really be here. Elliot. You narrow your eyes, and he looks off distracted, shaking his head as if hearing another narrative on a completely different channel.

 

Just as Murphy clears his throat you think you hear the boy humor, “are you seeing this too?”

 

“Just see this...” Murphy glared at the boy who trailed off, muttering curses at society under his breath. “Can we focus please?” he asked once before repeating the same phrase as he turned to his other side.

 

You do not see, but you feel.

 

It’s a  terrible desperation. It is a hard sense that the few, and the lucky, never really understand.  It’s a sense of anxiety and depression that dulls the brightness of the memories of the day. Fresh air, the promise of tomorrow, it’s all shit. Same for the have and the have nots, they’d like to deny it. But you can't argue your hurt is worse than someone else's. It’s just hard, and it just hurts. The you begin to see, but you still feel.

 

It was supposed to work out, she was always waiting for her real life to begin on the ground. It was supposed to be better, supposed to be good. But it wasn’t. It was awful, and she didn't think she could take it anymore.

 

Finally though, she didn’t have to pretend. She was so tired of pressing on, and pushing forward. She deserved an out from all of this. So she took up a sharp blade that reflected some of the false light of the moon on its edge and dragged down. Instantly feeling relaxed, instantly feeling like she wasn't a failure.

 

Finally, she got out. Finally, she was content.

 

“And you say, be still my love   
Open up your heart   
Let the light shine in   
But don't you understand   
I already have a plan   
I'm waiting for my real life to begin”

Colin Hayes

  
  


“That was too far..” His voice admonished, as the eye of fate drew back into the concrete here and now, drawing back to the bonfire. “That’s for later.”

 

Blinking, as one does when reading something confusing, you look back to read murphy staring at you and looking to the side not occupied by the boy who sat and stared.

 

You look over, and the eye of fate turns you backward, and you begin to wonder why no one mentioned the strange circumstance around Clarke's father being floated. You remember what you assume happened, he was executed. But, seeing the event clear as day… was there a body? It seemed to disappear with the strangest whirring noise that no one should have heard and the entire room was sworn to deny. Regardless, be.. Be whatever they see, it wasn’t in their rights...

 

Another admonishment from beside a campfire you recently remember brings you back to the then and there.

 

“That’s not for way later, dammit can we focus here please?” Murphy glared, staring ahead. And you stare back ahead, feeling like you are missing the point. Murphy sighed, immediately realizing the same. “Right then, back to me. Can't i have a  moment? Shit sucks down here, and .. I don't even matter in it. Everyone's always looking to the heroes, the princess or the king..” He sighs and bitterly akd noeges. “Yeah. i get it, im lucky to be this close this time… yeah. It just feels pointless, like the people that matter will figure it out, and i'll be caste out again. There's something coming, and even though it doesn't feel as bad as it could, i know it's still bad. And you can’t tell me. It had to happen, but aren’t you asking why-” He trailed off hesitantly, unsure. Breathing in again, he pushes. “Don't you ever wonder, what things are different?” Then he saves in your direction, dismissively, or dismissing himself.

 

“Might as well go and forget, I knew it was too early…=” You think you hear, or read, before

 

The eye of fate turns over, but not too far away,

 

Everything else fades as you see a trouble blonde girl, very much awake. Shes laying in bed, or makeshift ed, just starting at the wall. Everything was shitty. But she just couldn't shake off the dread that things would get much worse, and pretty soon.

 

THere is something about this girl, everything always come back to her. And while you think you can still hear the chirping across the bonfire from Murphy, that awareness fades away as you are firmly back where you were, observing the scene just like you were before the weirdness. At her feet curled up is the tripod cat, injured saving its kind.

  
In the light, you see details you didn’t notice before. Or maybe there was just other things to focus on,. Regardless, now you could see the cat, with its right front leg amputated at the shoulder, the stitched up knob seemed to be healing very well. Clearly some days spent being treated by Wells have passed in its favor. It was longhaired, and the fur seemed to darken at the tips into a steely gray. Curled up in a ball, it was basking in the heat and comfort radiating off the human asleep at his side. He seemed to gather to Clarke's side when things calmed down, as if he had miles to go but knew of where to finally sleep.


	28. After all this time?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, I've got the eye of fate under control. Let's take it out for a spin and check in on our heroes alright?
> 
>  
> 
> A tear, Sarah Jane? No, don't cry. While there's life, there's...

What else was there to do but hug his crying daughter in his arms. He wished his last few moments weren't filled with the reality of her heartbreak, knowing he might be the reason for the dimming in her bright optimism and confidence burdened him in a way he hadn't felt yet when faced with his sentence. He kissed her hair and pulled back from her desperate embrace. Jake Griffin eyed the guard behind Clarke, it was the poor Black boy who stood conflicted between duty and debt, weighing his options. Weighing the leverage. 

Any other time the patriarchal Griffin would have been alarmed or hurt by the calculating look in the boy’s eyes, but the boy knew the condemned man could spill the secrets of his sister's existence… it seems the debt earned a few precious seconds. The boy was loyal. It wouldn't do to deprive his daughter of a possible and strong ally, so he broke his embrace sooner than he wanted. He wasn't the first to bide for time before the end, but soon one more second was several seconds too long.

He pushed her away and stepped backwards into the air lock at his back. He met the eyes of the brunette, nodding his appreciation in this minute before midnight. The adolescent held his stoic ignorant mask as he met the stare before daring to duck his head a fraction of an inch.

The thick but windowed doors closed in front of him and too soon after, for everyone present, Clarke and Bellamy saw while Jake heard and felt the doors outer doors behind him open to the vacuum of space behind him. 

He felt himself swept out into the void, and he closed his eyes to waiting, accepting, but still regretting.

The first fifteen seconds he dozen't feel much, the silence deafens his sense. Observing the sentence doesn’t compare to the realization of the reality. 

He’s never heard nothing before being born years into the launch. He’d alway heard and felt the engine's keeping the arc alive. But now he could not hear...anything, couldn't feel the thrum of countess engines. Just the slightly numbing sensation of his lungs unable to draw air from the vacuum of space.

Jake Griffin felt himself begin to exhale, even as he tried to hold whatever air he had left in his lungs. But his body bested his mind,. He feels precious air being pulled from his lungs out of his nose into the vacuum of space. As he felt his eyes begin to dry, even as he held them desperately shut, he felt his skin began to burn from the exposure to the sun.

But then, perhaps just before his ears were to give out, forever closing off that sense in anticipation of the rest and awareness to follow, he heard something. 

Something strange.

Then before his mind caught up, his body realized that there was air to gasp in as he felt the impossibility and sureness of a solid flat surface beneath him. He gasped, greedily taking in air he’d never thought he'd breathe again. It tasted different though. He kept his eyes closed, his muscles clenched unconsciously, believing this to be the hallucination of his brain finally dying, or whatever came after that.

Impossibly, he heard something. A voice, no, a question.

“What?”

 

“Everybody knows that everybody dies. But not every day. Not today. Some days are special. Some days are so, so blessed. Some days, nobody dies at all. Now and then, every once in a very long while, every day in a million days, when the wind stands fair (or not at all) and the Doctor comes to call, everybody lives.”

 

Monty sat at the cafeteria table, lost in thought. A throat cleared across from him and he looked up to meet Maya's eyes. She was so nice. And while there were only a dozen or so of the kids he knew, everyone else assured him that the others were merely in a different part of the mountain. He heard this a few times early on, he was pretty inquisitive whenever he woke in the morning. By the end of breakfast he was fine though, perhaps he was just angry and illogical without food. 

He nodded slowly to the easygoing conversation with the girl he liked as she explained away his worries each time. She made sense, and he nodded firmly back every morning as he happily thanked her for the juice she always saved for him. It was nice how she never seemed angry at him for being distrustful...ungrateful. Monty eagerly reached for her hand at the end of the meal, and they usually left the the cafeteria laughing and holding hands. It was pointless to question these people when they kept him and his friends safe and fed throughout the day. 

Monty usually slept well, usually laughing at his paranoia and resolving to appreciate things more in the morning.

 

Clarke laid in bed, certain memories blaring in her mind even though she fiercely tried to think of anything else. Or preferably, nothing at all.

."We should run it. We decide our fates.:...”

"But we need a plan, who could be our ally?"

Clarke groaned and shook her head, wondering how she’d ever been so idealistic when they first landed. Silly, to think the adults would come down to save them, silly to think of safety and guaranteed protection. She did wonder, about her mother. Logic aside, she found herself wondering how the woman was faring. Betrayed and cold as she was, she couldn't deny the conflicting affection she had in her heart for her mother, regardless of her secrets.

But that reminded her...

 

“You must not tell anyone of this…” 

Clarke immediately went back to thinking of Heda, and her own damn secrets. How dare Heda lie to both her and the commander. How could someone be so selfish? Maybe Clarke was the stupid one, Heda clearly was trying to warn her of the Commander but all Clarke saw was Heda. All she wanted was..

Somehow, knowingly, the blind cat at her side stirred and clamored up to her face. Sniffing loudly, the feline follow the scent until burrowing reassuringly into Clarke's cheek. The blonde welcomes the affection and bring up both hands to reciprocate affection. S'more hours passed, Clarke wasn't sure how many. She just laid there, scratching the neck of the purring animal.

It was interrupted, eventually and inevitably, by a quiet knock immediately followed by a familiar sounding voice accompanied it shortly after.

 

Bellamy shifts awake in the dim light of midnight passing. He isn't really even mostly awake until his searching hand finds only a cool bed next him. He was sure Murphy spent the night, and he up rubbing his face trying to clear his brain and think. His face scrunches up in thought and concern as he reached for the machete he kept at his side, ignoring anything else like clothing as the door to the room creaked open. 

 

Out in the woods around the drop ship held one of our heroes.

 

Octavia was restless, she just wanted to get out into the night, but things were so chaotic she felt responsible for guarding over what people they had left in the drop ship. She envied the Treekru, their safety in numbers. She wanted that, that promise. That family. Only an hour or so in, not driven yet by need to feed her people as there were bonus supplies with the lack of the usual mouths, Octavia was looking for something interesting.

Then there was a steady rainfall that started with a drizzle that grew steadily. Hours later, finally, Octavia felt the drops slowing, and then continue in a steadily increasing pattern all around her as she crouched in a tree. 

It was a new challenge, stories and videos on the arc showed kids raised in the jungle, swinging from tree to tree. And because they seemed to do alright, she wanted a go.

Bellamy was claustrophobic sometimes. Especially since she'd been taken and..changed. 

“Should I try to escape from...here?” She found herself repeating. 

“Why are you here then?” She heard echoed back in her memories. Ever so easily distracted from her thoughts, she felt a wave of adrenaline flood her boy a she rallied the prey beneath her. She stayed still, waiting, and then finally the soft crunching of possible prey entered her senses.

A tall man, barely clothed, walked into her view. He was drenched with water and sweat, breathing heavily, looking around as if tensing for an encounter.

Octavia looked down on him, as he passed directly under her, judging the distance before nodding surely to herself. She hissed loudly before rolling for a jump. She hissed loudly before rolling for a jump., as she pushed off, her novice feet betrayed her as the weight dug into the branch and gave her away. The weight displaced some of the bark of the large evergreen in obviously cracks and a small showering of bark pieces on the ground around his feet. But she was already airborne. Lincoln immediately looked up, his face finding the time to grin as she tackled him to the ground. 

The dark skinned man underneath her merely grinned, showing a toothy smile, and replied “We'll make a warrior out of you yet.”


	29. The weather is getting better by the hour. I hope it rains there all the time.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My dearest readers. I have at least ten more chapters of bullet points and prompts to go through before I dream of this story being done. I hope you keep coming back. I havn't gotten many reviews lately, and my days are dark... Appreciate the love and the views, I will do better on updates. 
> 
> This chapter, you might be pleased to know, is more of a part one of two stories. I cut it in half to get to to you sooner!!
> 
> (Almost avoided the dreaded fanfiction sentence of, sorry for the shorter chapter haha)
> 
> Also, hit kudos right now if you swooned at Penguin and Nygma!!

It wouldn’t go away, that voice that kept reminding her of her hopelessness. Now though, there was also a note of desperation, of fleeing from the inevitable. Something terrible was edging closer. 

Each night felt worse than the night before it, perhaps no time was passing at all. This moment felt eternal, just like past ones on the cursed ground. It wasn't getting any better. and she just wanted to close the door on it forever. She tried to reason with it, to let her be. But luckily so far it was always stilled by her companion. This morning it was a hand on her shoulder that brought her back out of those dark depths into awareness. 

Raven had been sleeping at the base of a tree, dropping pretty much as soon as they’d gotten off the equally exhausted horse. The elder Griffin and Raven had gotten as much distance between them and the others as they could, but they all had their own limits. 

For Raven, her own reality was started to seep on, because they had a moment to think without the terror of the savage grounders. Others were still alive. If they could have survived, could the 100 be somewhere?

She tried to bring it up the first night they raced anywhere but where’d they’d bee, and then again on the next day...but it was always the same reaction. Abby brushed aside ideas of seeking out other people, she was convinced everyone was the same and they needed to protect themselves, maybe find the military base at Mount Weather to try to communicate with anyone. Maybe they had options, but not here and not with anyone they met. The people were too strong, at best the kids were prisoners of them somewhere. It was likely, given the ground people's comfort and power here. Abby knew they killed easily, made her kill easily. Perhaps it was the only way to communicate.

Raven was still numb, she told herself, hoping it was shock. That she’d feel alive again soon, but she didn’t. She scoffed and rolled her eyes whenever Abby looked away. She was sure there was no one left listening who cared. Sure it would not matter in the end. 

As they ate an old rabbit Abby easily caught, she felt nauseous with guilt at what terrible things they'd done. So many killed slowly, for it all to amount to hell on the ground. She felt cold knowing her trust in Abby was idiotic and naive. Raven realized the confidence for what it was, a lie. Doctor Griffin was desperate and insane, not passionately convinced. And Raven understood the surprise on Abby's face when she saw someone alive down here, even as it all went to shit.

It didn't matter... there was no one left to read her story. That was a horrid thought, one that drove her to even worse ones. 

What was the point of making it to another sentence if no one would be around to acknowledge it.

 

The eye of fate looked anywhere but there, and saw the Commander of the Twelve, awake late into the night by the burden on her determined shoulders. The brunette warrior paced in her makeshift chambers, thoughts racing. 

There was much riding on this, much could go wrong. Too much had already gone wrong. Stilling near the entrance to her tent, she took a moment to look at the stars in the sky. Wondering, if one of those held the home the Skykru came from. 

If there were more up there, if she needed to act now to gain an upper hand in all of this. Recognizing potential investments was central to ruling securely. And Heda Lexa felt it within her bones than the Skykru could be the most important factor of the dilemma that was the present and future security of her people. Even now, in the stillness of the night, with only the backs of guards her audience she could not acknowledge the pull in her chest to put this girl before her people. It was childish and dangerous.

It wasn’t long after Lincoln set out to follow the commander’s task that the not entirely subtle muttering started. The commander was well versed in the gossip of the people, it was important to keep a thumb of that lifeline. People were scared, paranoid. that more grounders were taken. Gustus and Ryder included. 

She continued to pace in her throne chamber, going over the diplomatic lines to prove that what she intended and hoped for was critical to all people. The Skykru knew the mountain, Klarke herself was captive in it, surely she could move past their failed affair to focus on the future. Perhaps they could work together, and her mind raced with a partnership. The hope that she wouldn't have to choose again between her duty and Klarke lit an impossible fire within her.

It was the second night, if all went well the SkyKru would be at the perimeter in the next day or two… She spoke of meeting the SkyKru already, and earlier that day held an informal council meeting debriefing on them the vaguest points of what she knew, what happened to Lincoln and the skykru girl in there, and how the Skykru saved a grounder at the risk of her own people. It was a bit of a stretch, but it helped things along.

One man in her council, Titus, wasn't holding his tongue with paranoid of the newcomers to the land. Whenever Heda made the mistake of lingering too long on the topic, she always saw his eyes narrow with suspicion and distrust, as if he’d figured out the trap she’s missed. 

Heda found his lack of faith disturbing.

 

Nearing the grounder camp, Lincoln stilled before looking up , his mouth tense as he searched the trees before he barely had a moment to grin and reach for Octavia. He caught her but her momentum and wight took them both to the ground. She topped him, and he found his arms pinned to the ground. He wasn’t really fighting too hard though. Showing a toothy smile, and replied “We'll make a warrior out of you yet.”

Grabbing her forarms, he smiled easily and her gripe eased. Within the blink of an eye he flipped them over and said “Heda sent me to collect you and the skiprisa.”

Octavia lowered her head and sneered in a playful challenge to the man. Her longer canines somehow catching the light of the moon. She felt more than realize that whatever he played at, he was just having a bit of fun as means.

So she feigned giving up to him, feeling him relax hesitantly, as if disappointed. And she smirked, taking her attack of opportunity to bite down on his neck lightning fast, sucking the flesh into her mouth as she licked over his delicious skin while he ground his hips upward feeling the intense pleasure from her mouth.

 

 

Kane and Jaha stood over a makeshift desk, staring over half burned schematics and looking back at the other as if searching for a way out of this mess. But there likely wasn't one. Abby handed the last nail in the coffin to that Snake Sydney… so gradually but still instantaneous. As they observed the few portable oxygen tanks in front of them and tried to ignore the blue tongue taking over the few survivors left a rusting from the sobering Wick took them out of their pessimistic train of thought. 

The kid interjected with more paranoia, "The air could go bad at any time..."  
Kane tried to calm him down, "At least we're breathing. The CO2 scrubbers down here have kicked back on...They can restart themselves”  
Wick interjected, interrupted… “No. The electrical fires blew out a DCDU. Everything is on manual… Is it getting cooler in here?"

Jaha sighed, leaning over the table and pressing his head into the solid form. " I don't feel it." He muttered, rather unconvincingly.

Kane's eyes widened impossibly, "What..what if the cooling air is a message. See, I think... I think there's someone alive in Earth monitoring. Abby..."

Wick stared through the dissipating fog if intoxication, and more than a little missed it. Because these men were clearly worse off than he was. He responded doubtfully, maybe a bit too disbelievingly and asked, "The air... is a message?"

Kane only nodded back confidently, "We need to get them moving, now. I am not gonna let these people die here.

Wick knew they all likely had hypoxia, and the hope of the poor bastards left on the Arc were rely on people working with about ten percent of their brains. The two other men lept into action, straining their minds and bodies to come up with a way down. Using up more air that no one had. Wick knew they wouldn't listen to him, the only one who had was lost in an attempt to get to the ground. He had no ear, and now barely had a voice. 

He couldn't help but hope that at come point, this would all stop going to shit.


	30. All Things Considered, I'm glad you're still here...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mama put a little money in the mattress  
> Taught me how to make a silver spoon out of plastic  
> You can either sink, swim or be the captain  
> Get the last word Ima get the last laugh in

Perhaps it was only hours that passed.

Perhaps many days, it was impossible to quantify, all things considered. Something within the universe shuttered, spurted and stalled.

As if the gods that powered the realm lost their strength, the reverence and prayers that fueled them. There was such little interest lately. But there was a spar, a moment of wonderance and what might be. And so, the eye of fate awoke and opened once more. The eye of fate blinked a few times wondering of the fate of the bad men, the rise and wrath of the villains. Too much to hope for.. Or of the legendary duo,  or of more, of so many more, or of this tale, which could have been any combination of the above.

 

A snort from the side of the room was the only noise or mortal who could draw the withering but unharming (in this case) glare of the eye of fate.

 

The night had been long, Murphy felt that as his muscles ached with being asleep far longer than the few hours he’d perceived to lay down before. Something about it felt as if the night, It seemed like it was going on too long. Content to be in a secure background, he felt the hairs on his neck raise and freeze. The sensation too familiar. The feeling, the awareness… He shifted before repeating himself, knowing this as another time where things weren't exactly on his normal plane of awareness.

 

Opening his eyes fully, he shifted back into the frozen in time embrace of Bellamy. He refused even if it only promised or risked for another moment. Actions on the ground, sky, or elsewhere, he refused to leave the site of the one that made it feel worthwhile. Feelings like this usually heralded one thing though, and he addressed it immediately.

 

“Yeha yeah, you didn't think anyone was listening, but give it another go...Fuck this stupid ground bullshit." He just wanted a free space to spend with the seriously fit Bellamy Blake. He was currently rather sore from their last go around, and if the damned eyed supernatural shit didn’t wake him up, he was sure he could have motivated Bell for another round or three. This bigger picture bullshit was honestly just exhausting. Murphy was happy to not matter, he was close enough to the pulse of that which he tried to ignore to realize the bigger part he played, the worse off everyone and himself was. And the less he’d get regularly pounded into a makeshift bed within four safe walls.

 

The eye of fate seemed bored, but Murphy was emboldened. Sparing a smirk to the eye of fate and the monitor behind it, he turned and began tracing a trail of kisses with a bite at the end down the bare chest of bellamy blake. As the scene began to fade to black, you hear the soft muffled voice of Murphy saying, “See you around, friend.”

  
  


Wishing with all her heart to memorize the embrace she felt now, to revel in its assurance that this was real she pulled back and met the eyes of the dark haired beauty who haunted her nightly. It felt familiar but bitterly so, as if she yearned for this simplicity, to look across one's view and see that. She was so beautifull, open wide eyes that could narrow to command death, even though the idea of a title of commander of death was too awful to conceptualize. But now, she felt some sort of desperation, as if she needed to pull this girl to her side and hold her fervently against the forces that would pull them apart.

 

Against the realist that would pull them part.. ‘ no, no, please no.. just let this happen forever…’ she found herself thinking childishly. That wasn't good, that level of awareness meant that something was tapping on the real world, this was starting to dissolve. Sobbing audibly, he gasped to the girl, ‘please no... want this to be real, I’d… I chose this… don't go…’ and as the knocking increased, the brunette pulled away, walking into the embrace of an armor clad leader, the commander, face shrouded in paint and armor. They embraced and became one, the figure turning to look at Clarke sadly. Muttered apologies ringing on silenced ears as the persistent knocking broke through her subconscious finally, and no amount of nuzzling underneath blankets and cats could bring her back to fill the whole and sadness already forming within her. Happy dreams were worse than the nightmares, and still the nightmares always seemed to wait at the edges of happy dreams, as if waiting to take their due.

 

Heda Lexa herself shook herself awake, feeling almost as if breathed back into an existence she wasn't sure she wanted. The dreams continued, of fighting the reapers who'd overtaken the world. She was escaping with the boat nation, but they were different. Suddenly Clarke was there, or she was there, back on the normal ground with her. Together, finally. As the dream turned foxy the girl in her arms seemed to gasp, as if being pulled away. Heda froze, unsure of how to react, which cards to play, feeling pulled in directions. Then suddenly she was approached and stood and walked away and donned her armor to fight for Clarke… but the blonde turned away, as if horrified, as if she wouldn't want this.

  


AN

Okay friends, I have at least eighty pages of notes on this story but I'm losing inspiration to keep going. Maybe it's just depression. So, review to get more. *shrug*

  
Much love to the drarry, reylo, and especially merthur writers out there!!


	31. The riddles of God are more satisfying than the solutions of man.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have much sadness to say, but i'd rather reflect on the silver lining. I've decided to continue on with this story. the minor update was a muddled success. yet, so many silent viewers. might i yet again beg a word or two of review? 
> 
> maybe some seductive measures are in order...  
> mature scenes ahead

Lincoln stilled before looking up, his mouth tense as he searched the trees before he barely had a moment to grin and reach for her. He caught the timorous beastie but her momentum and weight took them both to the ground. She topped him, and he found his arms pinned to the ground. _Not really fighting too hard though_. Showing a toothy smile, he breathed in and let out a proud bark of laughter. Taking a moment to feel his gorgeous sky girl on the ground before grabbing her forearms, he smiled easily and her grip eased., “We'll make a warrior out of you yet.” Within the blink of an eye he flipped them over and said “Heda sent me to collect you and the skiprisa.”

Octavia raised her head and sneered in a playful defiance to the man pushing her down into the ground, her back resting against a large tree trunk. Her longer canines somehow catching the light of the moon. She felt more than realize that whatever he played at, he was just having a bit of fun as means.

So she feigned giving up to him, feeling him relax hesitantly, as if disappointed. And she smirked, taking her attack of opportunity to bite down on his neck lightning fast, sucking the flesh into her mouth as she licked over his delicious skin. She used the tree at her back as  brace, and pushed back pulling him upward with her while he ground his hips upward feeling the intense pleasure from her mouth.she moaned, she reveled in his existence as a masculine force of power. He was truly the epitome of what she yearned for. 

Lincoln breathed deeply as he moaned into Octavia's neck. He allowed himself to be pulled as he took in her smell. She smelt of the air before a storm, of something different than the others on the ground. It hardened him even more, he needed more. Biting a trail down her neck, he pushed the neckline of Octavia shirt down, nudging it along. He was reward with a breathy moan as Octavia was distracted from licking at bleeding bite marks she's just left. and he anchored his hips around Corvaia, pushing down over her. She felt him grind into her and proof of his passionate want against her and she moaned again. Running a hand down to grab, pushing back.

There wasn't time but perhaps there should always be time made, time made to taste one's beloved, kindred, or even possibility. Such strong skin met each of their matches Octavia was overwhelmed instantly, fierce but sheltered, and Lincoln was primal. He needed her, needed to feel his prey fall to pieces in his hands. He needed her, his mission forgotten for a moment as he tasted the neck before him and he knew it was more important but... He murmured, ‘“we don't..have-” and he huffed out nonsense and she leaned forward with her newly trained limbs that were so much more powerful now. Rolling a critical in acrobatics, she wrapped her strong legs around Lincoln's hips, pushing their hands even closer together as they sought purchase trying to bring the other pleasure.

She met his growing hardness that she could easily feel between the thinner materials of their closer. He shuddered, and then growled, pushing her into the rough back digging into her back. She reveled in the pain and leaned to bite at his neck instead, their hands reached under the others clothes to find purchase on their growing passion. Finally they met it and the backs of their hands met as each shuddered their hips forward seeking precise friction.

It felt so good, it always felt like it had been too long. She needed to taste more of him, but he was rushed, frantic and needy. And that was unusual, so she pushed herself as he did. They needed some relief before duty set back in. it was almost too much, everything boiled down to the heat between her legs as his hand found her even with the layers between. He groaned into her mouth as he kissed her once more, his fingers were wet even outside of her clothes. Her hand grabbed him an outlet, the rough layers adding such a roughness it barreled him towards coming into his legwear.

She screamed, grabbing him as her knees buckled, he caught her mouth after only a moment of her cry shaking the trees. He came shortly after and he summed all his strength to hold them against the tree as they regained their breath.

He kissed a trail on her neck, towards her mouth before claiming her lips once more. Tasking a moment to taste her before pulling back. Staring into her blown, but fierce expression, he murmured promises of later...but “now have to get Clarke and get back. There's people coming plans need to be made…” And he eyes her bright dyes before raising a finger to tap the fang of Octavia. A pinprick of blood which she sucks off. She nods, “let's go make more friends then.” Hands clasped as they ran back to camp and into the dropship, Octavia raised her fist to knock at the door before declaring herself to Clarke

“I think that love is stronger than habits or circumstances. I think it is possible to keep yourself for someone for a long time, and still remember why you were waiting when she comes at last.... I would enter your sleep if I could, and guard you there, and slay the thing that hounds you, as I would if it had the courage to face me in fair daylight. But I cannot come in unless you dream of me.”  
― Peter S. Beagle, The Last Unicorn

The sudden noise wakes her instantly, her tension at least something that adapted quickly to the dangerous and chaotic ground. Clarke wakes to realize the two injured cats, the blind cat and the tripod, are curled up at her sides. Sitting up, she raised the noises that awoke her was a knocking at the door outside of her chamber. Settling the animals against each other as she got up, she then approached the door and knocked back once. Octavia’s impatient bark of “Clarke, need to talk.” made the Griffin girl open the door just a bit to peer out, seeing Octavia and Lincoln standing alone outside her door. It was dark enough that their red eyes seemed just a darker normal color, but something about their alertness as if they saw perfectly in the very dim light was glaringly other.

“Something I can help you with?” She asked, raising an eyebrow at the late hour.

Octavia looked lazily to Lincoln for him to explain further to Clarke. She was still pretty euphoric from their go in the woods. So she stood there, trying to keep a straight, fierce face when she only felt contented optimistic goo in her usually volatile predatory core.

Clarke eyed Octavia and Lincoln. before following them out. On the way, she scrawled out a short note instead of knocking at the door to where Bellamy and Murphy bedded down together. She thought she heard Murphy argue with himself before, ah, something else entirely started up. With a bit of a blush she forgot the thing entirely and pasted the last minute note on their door with a finger guns motion.

 

 

“The modern city is ugly not because it is a city but because it is not enough of a city, because it is a jungle, because it is confused and anarchic, and surging with selfish and materialistic energies.” author of All Things Considered

 

  
Crossing over a border they didn't know existed, they came upon something that looked too similar to the one they’d left. They seemed to be just outside of a camp, they looked the same as the others. The terrible female leader and the savages she commanded. They wore different clothes, but Raven couldn't really remember how far they'd traveled over the past few days.

Everything looked the same, but that could be the depression. Raven wasn't even hungry anymore, she didn't feel anything. That should be weird, she should be trying to code out and explain each new phenomenon on this ground. But, it was shit. She saw terrible things, with no hope, during their few day cycles with that terrible people. their land was so cold, so they raced south. But it didn't matter, Raven just sighed and existed. Something was brewing with her only companion. While Raven was content to last to the next hour or dawn, the older woman was driven, desperate. Raven was guilty for her role in what the Griffin matriarch did. In those night cycles ad day cycles just trying to get away, Raven breathed in the silence as if it was the promise of calm. Abby didn't though, she often sat across or next to the older woman and tried to avoid the eye contact. Because she saw something terrifying in her eyes. Madness perhaps, the same look she saw on the faces of those who'd stared out into the windows at the first sign of trouble, as if to say what did it matter anyway. Nothing's out there, and you can only do the same nothing to me.

It was madness. As if Abby demanded a responses she did not expect, demanded her daughter when she refused to believe in anything anymore. As if her human nature let her somewhere in the arc over their heads. Raven knew she should be concerned, but what did it matter anyway. Likely, Abby would just lead her through this nothingness, and only nothing could happen to her.

She looked across the sparse forest to the campsite on the edge of their vision. The tents, dimly illuminated from the fires outside and the arguing. There was no peace down here, from the arc it seemed like utopia, but it wasn't. There was no happiness, no reason to even bother. She was just hurting more people. 

As she undressed for the night, she doffed her belt and stared thoughtfully at the belt buckle. It was dull, but if she tried hard enough..

 

 

“The whole curse of the last century has been what is called the Swing of the Pendulum; that is, the idea that Man must go alternately from one extreme to the other. It is a shameful and even shocking fancy; it is the denial of the whole dignity of the mankind. When Man is alive he stands still. It is only when he is dead that he swings.” G K Chesterson, author of All Things Considered


	32. Drowned in Moonlight, Strangled by My Own Bra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We can find a new hope every new day and every New Year.” – Lailah Gifty Akita
> 
>  
> 
> Hello and welcome back to my little corner of the universe. You remain quiet, but you remain. For that I thank you. This story is back on track! Thanks for everyone who came back! This story might pick up in rating, but I won't make it awful... Comment if ya wish for specific warnings.
> 
>  
> 
> Ive gone back over the story so far, so get ready for callbacks and continuations! Ain't quitting till I hit 100k
> 
> I wish you the happiest of new years. You made it, it was hard, and I know you were so tired. I'm so happy you kept going!
> 
>  
> 
> Here's to following your friends out into the woods with narry a care!

"I knew that no matter how bad you feel, or what horrible thing happens to you, that the world just keeps on going. That the rest of the world doesn't even realize that the monsters are eating your heart... The world is designed to move forward, to keep on keeping on without any one individual person. It feels damned impersonal, and it is. But, then, if the world stopped rotating just because one of us was having a bad day, we'd all be floating out in space." laurell k hamilton

 

The knocking woke her instantly, her reaction time adapting to the chaos of the ground. Firstly she felt the two warm small bodies laying against her. Pythagoras, the tripod, and the white black-spotted blind cat are curled up at her sides. Sitting up, she realized the noises that awoke her was someone knocking at the door outside of her chamber. Settling the animals against each other as she got up, she then approached the door and knocked back once. The doors and the place were home, a relic to what she once knew as everything but now was just a stubborn rock in the ground.

 

Octavia’s impatient bark of “Clarke, need to talk...” made the Griffin girl open the door just a bit to peer out, seeing Octavia and Lincoln standing alone outside her door. It was dark enough that their red eyes seemed just a darker normal color, but something about their alertness as if they saw perfectly in the very dim light was glaringly other.  
  
“Something I can help you with?” She asked, raising an eyebrow at the late hour.  
  
Octavia looked lazily to Lincoln for him to explain further to Clarke. She was still pretty euphoric from their go in the woods. So she stood there, trying to keep a straight, fierce face when she only felt contented optimistic goo in her usually volatile predatory core.  
  
Clarke eyed Octavia and Lincoln. before following them out. On the way, she scrawled out a short note instead of knocking at the door to where Bellamy and Murphy bedded down together. She thought she heard Murphy argue with himself before, ah, something else entirely started up. With a bit of a blush she forgot the thing entirely and pasted the last minute note on their door with a finger guns motion.  
  


At the main outer door to the dropship a figure darkened the room, causing the three to stop in their tracks. “Hello again, Lincoln com trekru” the exile spoke. “It seems like an age has passed. Off somewhere with my commander? It is my duty to protect and follow-”

 

“The commander insists Clarke be brought to the city, there is much to discuss.”

 

The two whose senses were heightened noticed a strange sparke in apprehension as CLarke seemed to quietly panic before she controlled her breathing, rather obviously. Turning to Clarke, Lincoln tries to soothe her. “She cannot return to my people skip risa, she is an exile. The commander will speak to you about the good of both our people. She is very wise.”

 

Clarke barks out a disbelieving huff of laughter before nodding resolutely. Avoiding this would only endanger her own people more. Lincoln probably tried to tell her what this was all about, but she froze in a sort of numb shock in hearing she was being summoned by the cuckolded basically all-powerful leader. Might as well get this over with, hopefully Heda didn’t tell the Commander about the two of them and maybe this was just a meeting of dignitaries.

 

Unlikely.

 

Ignoring and stepping forward past Octavia and Lincoln, Anya lowers herself to a knee. Clarke sighs suffering, even as tired as she is she still wishes Anya would quit doing that whenever she wanted something. It was strange, the few of them left looked st her funny. Or knowingly, wondering if they should do the same. It wasn't what she wanted. But...this was the life she had now… so she spoke stiffly,

 

“Yes, second?” Using the prefered name, or the only one the exile would respond to, and only from Clarke, of course.

 

“I will stay behind to guard c-camp...’ suffering over the informal title everyone insisted on calling the tribe “...until you return.?” Clarke nodded and finally the girl rose and preceded them out the door, begin a preliminary perimeter tightly around the dropship. Clarke watched her go, narrowing her eyes wondering how that would all play out, and if there was anything she could or should do. Shaking her head moved on, Lincoln expressed interest in the cat colony he’d help them with before.

 

Stopping by the dwelling that housed the youngest of the animals, clarke found herself the caretaker and heater for two smaller silver kittens. Saved by one of the other kittens somehow, they now seemed insanely dependant. Octavia and Lincoln stood off to the side, sniffing the air every few moments. Lincoln seemed tense. Clarke grabbed up the two knightly kittens, debating them fit for knights of the feline round table, before trailing after her companions, guards, or wardens..

 

So they set out, the night passing rather uneventfully considering. They decide to set up camp a few hours into the trek, daylight was approaching and the otherworldly seeming pair grew anxious as the sky threatened to lighten. Clarke sat at the fire they made, the kittens still breathing slowly in her lap.  Brush rattled deliberately as Octavia and Lincoln came back to the fire with only a lifeless fresh rabbit between them. Octavia settled down next to clarke as she began preparing and dressing the meat to roast over the fire for Clarke and the kittens.

 

Clarke noticed as the meat cooked, that neither octavia or Lincoln made mention of needed to eat. They didn't seem hungry anymore, their skin seemed rosier in the light of the fire. Having a thought she carefully but warmly said out loud. “Ya know, if you get hungry.. you don't need to hide...well...with anything, you don't need to hide anything…” She finished, looking to Lincoln and Octavia who turned to her as she spoke. His face was guarded but relieved, likely as he only really looked to the side to Octavia now, who seemed much more openly glad to hear this.

 

Clarke went back to staring at the fire in apprehension, if it wasn't what Octavia was now… She wanted to know what was bothering clarke, was it about the meeting with the commander? Or was it about the people still at Mt Weather. It wasn’t as intuitive to care for people out of sight and mind outside her close network of allies on the ground. The people she grown up with barely knew her, she felt little ties to them. The land and people of the ground seemed like a better investment. Still, it was important to Clarke so she tried to school her expression and voice into understanding concern. “We will get our people back princess, surely with this meeting of the minds and leaders someone will come up with something. Lincoln seems to think the council meetings will last all day, the purpose is great enough.” Clarke looked confused, brought back to the reality, terre wasn't even the slightest bit of threat or warning,

 

She certainly wasn't looking forward to meeting heda and her beloved commander. Clarke wondered in a detached sort of way if this was a trap. The grounders did seem bound by duty or world though so she felt a bit soothed. Surely she could be aloof and objective dealing with the grounders. Surely heda would have left to confess to her beloved, surely she wasn't marching to some sort of scorned punishment. Though, perhaps it was a bit deserved. The passion of the whole thing did leave her a bit alive. It was an interesting and welcome feeling.

 

Tired from the day's actions and her mind.s stress, she found herself dozing off in front of the warm fire as they stilled for that rest. The night was calm, and the air fresh and cool. Clarke dreamed again of that other ground.

 

The one with the reapers whose bite infected and darkened the world. But the worst part was Heda. Reduced to such a weak person, it was horrific in its possibility. But it wasn't possible, but that's the problem with dreams. Everythings seems alright until you wake up. But Clarke wasn’t awake just yet. She was forever separated from the girl she’d touched and tasted. In that dream she screaeamed in Heads ear on that strange room on the water. Screamed for her to come back, to not leave her world for this simple meaningless life. It might be easier or more rewarding but… The Heda that Clarke knew was strong powerful and beautiful in her garbe, not the strange clothes from the vid films she watched on the arc.

 

So obviously, Lincoln and Octavia heard the intruders far before Clarke did. It took several crunches of twigs before she was stilled out of her random thoughts of no safe harbor on a completely different channel.

 

It clicked off, or rather back on as her eyes shot open. Looking to the heightened humans near her, Clarke slowly rose to standing, suddenly too awake holding her bundle of precious kittens. Her face was concerned but more confused, why hadn't they acted? Were more grounders approaching, some sort of murder squad to kill the woman who defiled the consort ot the commander?

 

Octavia smirked and looked ot Lincoln, making Clarke feel more as if she was missing something important. A few seconds later she realized the general gist of it as Murphy and Bellamy emerged from out the tree cover.

 

Three raised eyebrows of expectancy and amison met the boys, and Murphy was (of course) the first to break the silence)

 

Smirking at Clarke he said"Got your note, figured we'd tag along with she-who-won't-be-named and the lawful duo watching home. Plus..." And he turned, his tone getting more serious.“...figured I owed you one.” he said, looking only at Lincoln.

 

The girls looked to Lincoln, remembering how he’d saved him from the grounders. Lincoln only stared back meeting the gaze of the slinky man, his face confused and guarded. Lincoln hadn't told anyone of how dire the situation was, how could this skai kru boy know this was life-debt worthy?

 

At this, Murphy merely raised his right hand and pointed at his eye.

 

Rather strange, everyone else thought confusedly. Everyone’s confusion grew, and Lincoln’s most of all into tension, when Murphy continued.

 

“What did you mean that time, when you warned me of the healer and the bird?”

  
  



	33. Bet You Didn't See This Coming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *cracks knuckles to work on that rating*
> 
> Also, being a pretty queer nerd, hope I can get this right haha. This chapter was written pretty early on, just was waiting for the right opportunity. Such quick updates, surely I deserve some sort of reward? :P

It seemed to pass in an instant, but Clarke noticed that Lincoln looked to herself and read her face at that news before his face shifted to the grounder mask she’s grown to hate on every face she’d seen it on. Though, it was a rather small sample size, she mused bitterly to herself.

Only a few moments of convicted still-mated silence as Lincoln instead looked from Octavia back to Murphy, ignoring Clarke entirely before a few low whistled could be heard off to the distance. Everyone got distracted, but Lincoln in a different way, any most of the group was confused as he raised his fingers to his mouth before responding in a lower but similar set of whistles and clicks. This went back and forth a few rounds before his demeanor changed entirely He took the step or two to Octavia;s side, mattered too lowly for anyone entirely human to hear or comprehend, before raising his voice to look at the other three. Lincoln said directly to Murphy, “We need to get back to the city now, and you two need to stay in front of me, or far ahead of us, or else my people will consider you spy's or other betrayal. Murphy seemed skeptical before Lincoln raised a finger to brush his eyes and Murphy stilled before nodded and pulling Bellamy along to march ahead of the rest, Clarke could hear muttered arguments with promises of explanation later and trust now.

 

The youngest Griffin found herself dawdling behind the group, Octavia and Lincoln seemed to march off. Bellamy was too focused on the threat ahead, and Murphy was too focused on Bellamy

Plus Clarke was drowsy, woken up in the dead of night, forced to march then sleep on flat ground. She wasn't a total idiot for failing to hear the footsteps to her flank, nor feel the wind as a firm hand covered her mouth and pulled her into the brush..

“Mpphrrr-tvhh” Clarke tried to call out, but the meaning and volume were lost in the muffle.

 

Clarke couldn't help but still. something about this just crawled back to her dream comma of column header made her feel. She tried to convince herself she wasn't leaving back. Tried to convince herself that she could be in danger, that it might not be..her.

 

At her back, the commander was instantly focused on Clarke. She didn't have much time, there would never be enough time or certainty. So she bit down to taste her, still holding her palm firmly over Clark's mouth. And as she bit down her tongue lapped up the taste of the skin. The girl still smelled impossibly of the sky just before a storm, tasted of light that only came from after rain on the driest day of the season. It was addictive, it was the only thing that mattered, And she needed more. Continuing to bite down, she pushed the blonde into the tree before the girl, hitting her stomach on it, the cough of shortness of breath meant that the commander could move her hand from Clarke's mouth to firmly grab her by the hip as her other hand pulled her bright blonde hair to the side, Clarke groaned at the pain, at the pleasure.

Clarke had a whole speech planned out, been practicing it since... since the girl walked away from her.. But now it burned away, she should have known it would. She should have known that she practiced seduction of someone who’d captured the heart of the commander could be so powerful. But the bitter thoughts, the proudfull notions, all went away as she pushed back into Heda at her back. Feeling her senses race as she began to twist her hips seeking friction. The meeting at her neck was racing right into her core, racing downloads and making her painfully wet... Only from that, only from the impossibility and wrongness of this happening again with the girl who captured her.

 

Finally, Clarke has the mind to look ahead of her, to see if her companions were staring wide eyed in shock and possible outrage, confusion, or investigation as they sought her out. It was none, and she saw none of them. They'd moved on. It didn't make sense, and surely wouldn't under a clear head. But Clarke was far from aware, all she knew was a clear go ahead to have one more go. And she desperately wanted it. She began to moan softly, and then louder, as Heda shuddered behind her at the vocalization. 

Lexa was barely holding on to her control, she yearned to make this girl hers underneath her once more. The sense of fighting for a conquest boiling with lust mixed in her veins. Her mouth still on Clarke's neck as she felt a hand begin to graph at her pant ties. Lexa groaned and ground her hips animalistically at the prowess and her own hands drew back to loosen her pants. Clarke spun around at the first hint of freedom and tried to assist. Lexa was just pulling out the last knot when her hands stilled at the blonde dropped to her knees in front of her and began mouthing at the cloth. Breathing gin such warmth to where she desperately wanted more 

Clarke's hands were tugging down on Heda’s pants, she needed to taste her, needed to feel her. If this was the last chance, she’d already doomed herself, possibly everyone. Let her earn the damnation. She just wanted to taste Heda and feel her come undone around her. She bit down a bit harder over the fabric in her frustration and impatient of Heda trying to undo her pants rings. Finally, finally, Clarke was able to pull the pants down, her mouth trailed sucking kisses down the sensitive inner hipbone area as she groaned and pushed forward, desperate for more. 

Lexa was able to fall back, more focused on not losing contact with CLarke instead of avoiding a rougher than necessary fall that would likely lead to future and now insanely not important bruising.

Clarke didn't even realize she was moving, only now that before her was her Heda, naked from the waist to her knees, and it broke the last bit of awareness and sense of consequences as she dived forward. She barely heard the muffled scream as her mouth found purchase on Heda’s clit. She tasted divine, she was so wet and Clarke needed more. She needed to drink her down, gain meaning from these moments and these moans. It was everything and she needed more, she tenderly nibbled as Heda drove her hips forward, and Clarke immediately lifted her dominant hand to caressed the outside of Lexa’s wetness. Holding herself back for likely only moments, Clarke drove her index and middle finger upward, curling brutally as she tried to synchronize sucking and nibbling on the delicious clit of Heda and her fingers and they dived forward to latch on and tug downward on the bundle of nerves deep within the girl she craved.

The commander was at a loss. This was only meant to be a discussion, to warn her of her family… but… while only knowing the girl for such a short time, herself as Heda Commander was also a short life so far, a short dangerous ill fated life. She was destined to die by her battles, the battles she had a duty to… but as she felt Clarke's fingers reach into her, and her mouth biting and tasting her, she knew knew nothing and saw little else but blinding white light, as if thrown from the eye of the storm into its wildest arms. Breathing in deeply to scream, she was suprised to feel a hand slap over her mouth. Biting down firecely, she tasted blood as she screamed out her pleasure. It was only an embarassingly few moments later that, unknowingly to her beloved partner, the Commander of the Twelve Nations, Heda Lexa of the Trekru people, passed out in ignorant sated bliss.

 

That wasn't the end of it though. Because she began to dream of a memory. A memory of only the night before she set out to meet the incoming party. She had something personal to discuss, to confirm. They still had the man, if he proved to be lying. But if he he wasn't... And so Heda dreamed, and remembered.

Flashback Pt1

 

A figure paces in a tent, a young heart and an old soul at war with each other. The Commander sighed, looking out the tent into the dark forest feeling a pull in a certain direction with a sense of apprehension and guilt mixed in with a bit of duty. She tries to shake it off, going back to the guests seated at the table, shaking her head free of emotional thoughts. Heda pushed a sense of anticipation and longing promises towards somewhere away before turning back to the matter at hand. 

She looks to them again and questions their story. They lost their way on a quest and now just desired to get home, wherever that was. They were pretty guarded on that front. The one sat as if a commander himself, his blonde hair and bored expression firmly in place. His companion seemed less formal, angular with long messy black hair. He had a red shirt and handkerchief on. Then there was the matter of the third at the table, and older man blonde male who seemed very lost, and had little to offer. The other two men vouched for him, for what little that meant. They said they encountered him outside an old guard post way out in the woods. A blue shack didn't sound familiar. Lexa was confused by their description, it could be any hunters post, she masked her thoughts.

He was somewhat older, had a light complexion, blue eyes, and light brown hair. He wore strange wore torn clothing. She had seen many cultural norms but the fabric seemed too foreign, almost paradoxically so. Almost reminded her of the mountain men...and it understandably led to some trepidation. Regardless, he had a welcoming appearance and was usually accompanied by a smile. Lexa was confused by her strange instant trust of this man. the few words he spoke were of looking for his family, his people. Saying only that they were far away, lost to him. She was confused if he meant he searched for some closure, if they were dead? But his descriptions his his daughter led to such a longing in her heart that she felt confused in her empathy for this man she did not know. But how could she feel that she understood his longing for the daughter she'd never meet, and why did she feel she could understand his love of her? There was a lingering thought in her head, but it was too simple to be reasonable.

We just need some horses,” Lexa noticed he gestured only to the brunette beside him, not the older blonde male. “we can gladly pay trade.” The blonde said, leaning forward.

The brunette just stared at her, searching. apparently he found something because he also leaned forward, much to the thinly veiled annoyance of his partner.

He slowly opened his mouth, and offhandedly said “Perhaps there is something less traditional... less worldly that I can offer you?”

TO BE CONTINUED. I Have the next 10k already written out, just waiting on demand. :)


	34. Let's skip the random, meaningless murder for a second, shall we?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Exclusive groups created to manage control. A dealer getting people hooked on the drug of hope. His followers, nothing but addicts who want their hit of bullshit to keep their dopamine of ignorance. Addicts. Afraid to believe the truth. That there's no order. There's no power.... just metastasizing mind worms, meant to divide us so it's easier to rule us by the charlatans that wanna run us. All we are to them are paying fanboys of their poorly-written sci-fi franchise. If I don't listen to my imaginary friend, why the fuck should I listen to yours? People think their worship's some key to happiness. That's just how he owns you. Even I'm not crazy enough to believe that distortion of reality. So fuck your God. He's not a good enough scapegoat for me."
> 
> Mr Robot

**Flashback Pt 2**

  
  
  


She was surprised by the audience, the city was preparing slowly and quietly for war. Newcomers should be viewed with suspicion. Yet these two charmed their way into a the audience of the commander. Lexa was conflicted, even objectively. On the table before them Ar’in laid. Initially it unsettled the Commander, to have her familiar open to attack to strangers. But her spirit soothed her, something told her that the feline was safe. After a few minutes of strange conversation, the cat slinked down to the lap of the commander, before her ears twitched and she ran off. Toward some very unlucky mouse..

 

Two things seemed very important. The state of affairs with the twelve nations and the skykru, and that against the mountain.. And also these three men or rather a duo and another man. That led her to that enhance. When she thought nothing would deter her from anything that involved the sky princess, it was now that three men who charmed the guards into giving her advisers them the time of night. And then the brunet at the table said that particular thing when she expressed standard disbelief in something helpless unsubstantiated by fact or proof.

 

There seemed to be a silent argument passing between the younger men across from her. Without looking at the other, each of the two twitched an eyebrow, it was too much of a rhythm to be random. Meanwhile, the brunet slowly opened his mouth, and offhandedly said “Perhaps there is something less traditional and worldly that I can offer you?” 

 

The commander raised an eyebrow, stealing her mask from appearing too interested, genuinely or suspiciously. She gestured to a guard and he brought over some warm diluted wine. The guard poured four drinks and Lexa reached for hers, pretending not to notice how they waited for her to drink first, apart from the older man, Jake was it?... He immediately grabbed for the cup and lifted it to his nose. He inhaled deeply, but not as Lexa noted, in suspicion as if trying to detect some poison. He was just taking it in, Heda Lexa realized, as he smiled and took a mouthful, holding it then swallowing. He didn't even look to the others at the tabled as he nodded appreciatively towards the commander before he spoke.

 

“Its very good, we don't have anything like that where I come from... Some of the kids make some interesting stuff though…” The eldest male at the table spoke freely, slowly trailing off as the others seated looked back at him in different emotions. The brunet and Lexa seemed amused and relaxed their posture, the blonde just looked at him with a disbelieving expression, and then looked to the brunet and jerked his head <God he's just as crazy as you are, Merlin.> He thought, the pairs sharing a conspiratorial looks. She leanec back to look at the two men, and noticed that under the table there was a bit of movement. They shortly looked to Lexa who had a shocked expression on her face. 

 

“That...what was that?” She asked lowly, suspiciously. The blond seemed shocked before his own mask came down, surprise still pulling tension at the edges of his eyes. His companion narrowed his own eyes considerately, as if trying to sense something. He seemed no not find a decision one way or the other.

Heda Lexa noticed that the lankier man’s hand was running up and down the blonde's thigh. She felt her attention drift a bit, as she tried to look anywhere else than the hand rubbing circles on the inner thigh of his companion. It seems past the point of familiar comfort.

The older man looked between the group confused. It seemed things were going alright, though anything on normal ground seemed normal compared to the strange suited man in the space that shouldn't have existed, shouldn't have saved him. But now things got tense, and suspicion… or something… seemed to solidify the air. He tried to keep the peace, something he was so suited for until the cards became too stacked against him.. But this wasn't okay. There was something going on that everyone else was in on… and the last time that happened, he’d ended up on the white side of an air lock.

“Ma’am..” he trailed off, still confused on what to call her. In hushed tones he heard a few names, wasn’t sure at what might be her actual name, but clearly this woman was something more than just a casual person…

Lexa narrowed her eyes but there seemed to be a bit of amusement deeply deep down as she looked sideways to a guard watching the tent. 

 

“Nyko , my guests need a reminder as to who leads the land they are in, who commands an army of warriors they couldn't imagine, and who holds the fates of everyone within many days of here, obviously including themselves?”

 

Nyko stepped forward, a brutish but submissive. Ryder stepped through the tent but remained at the door. He bowed once to his commander then had eyes only for Nyko. The other burly man stepped to the Heda and then knelt, baring his neck submissively as his uttered the name of his leader.

 

“You are min heda. You are Commander. Heir to Bekka Pramheda. “

  
She waved him to stand, and then furthered the movement with a dismissal. She openly met her friend Nyko’s eyes as he rose, and waved him off but not coldly. She didn’t need to see what she knew would follow, Nyko brushing past Ryder, hand casually grazing down the other’s large arms. Standing at their posts outside, regardless of their likely foremost allegiance to each other. She knew they would separately rather accept death than make any decision between the other and their commander. It should bother her, but she kept that reminder of a better world close by. It grounded her.

 

Turning back, her blood raced with the words spoken to her a few minutes before. Now that she clarified her power, it would be acceptable to redress the offering made before. 

 

“Perhaps we can help each other.” She said with a calculating but friendly smile.. “You mentioned an interesting sort of idea….something rather..nontraditional?” 

 

The dark haired man reached around his neck under his shirt to pull off a leather wrapped necklace. As he put it on the table Lexa was able to see the pendant, it looked to be a sharp piece of burned glass, green where the flames had not scorched it.

 

The blonde man looked uncomfortable, as if he didn’t know the what but suspected the how and he finally spoke again. Again, Heda tried to ignore the circling movement of the brunet’s hand as it moved very vividly from the blonde's thigh to something much more central. Forgotten, or possibly dismissed, for a moment, she stilled her breathe as she realized it was an up and down movement. She herself wasn't interested in the male form, but the male form and another male form was rather captivating. At the choked off but still assertive bark of the man being groped, and Heda deftly and a bit impressed  glanced at the brunet who winked without stilling his movements, his face seemed a decision made up, but the blonde continued trying to power through the sensations of the insatiable companion at his side. He was doing this to protect him, there was no need to distract him! Shuddering for a moment as the waves threatened to overtake him, he barked forward more words. <Merlin, this..is...important...> But he spoke the rest out loud, out of necessity.

“This adds a term of secrecy to this meeting, and to us... You can never tell anyone what he can do..Here or...elsewhere...ever...” He trailed off, and the hand under the table stilled, as a deeper thing than primal set in the room. Lexa recognized the protective fondness he had for the other man who glanced over while nodding his agreement before the brunet began to speak again, but lower and in a gravely strange tone of voice., it seemed to be a string of nonsensical words. The commander thought herself skilled with every tongue, even that of the spiritual. But this sounded different. The brunet continued on without acknowledging or even showing he'd seen the commander's widened eyes, probably explained it as awe of the unknown.

 

“This is a cypher, if you make a small cut that draws blood your running speed is greatly improved for several hours, and your strength and dexterity to lesser degrees.. It wears off during a long rest and cannot be duplicated until the cut heals naturally.. Uh... week or two...probably.  Deeper the cut, greater the bonus, but the longer to heal. It might be tempting to nick a small cut to gain an easy advantage…” and he trailed off, his deep blue eyes crinkling and shifting to the fight as if flipping am mental page. He shortly continued, in a detached sort of way, “but know that doing so cancels out the possibility of a last resort plan for the day or two or after that it takes to heal. Heda Commander, as you know, Many dangers can come and threaten in that short amount of time. ”


	35. But Some Forms Are More Powerful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're calling me a terrorist  
> Like they don't know who the terror is  
> When they put it on me, I tell them this  
> I'm all about peace and love  
> They calling me a terrorist  
> Like they don't know who the terror is  
> Insulting my intelligence  
> Oh how these people judge...
> 
> It's like the definition didn't ever exist  
> I guess it's all just depending who your nemesis is  
> Irrelevant how eloquent the rhetoric peddler is  
> They're telling fibs, now tell us who the real terrorist is  
> -Lowkey

**Flashback Pt3**

 

The blonde man shifted, tensing forward and focusing deeping on the other leader at the table. While still lost, his idea of himself and his was all he had at the moment. He narrowed his eyebrows slightly, trying to remain good-willed in this Commander’s eyes. “This adds a term of secrecy to this meeting, and to us... You can never tell anyone what he can do...” He trailed off, mumbling something other than <I can’t lose him too..> and the hand under the table stilled, as a deeper thing than primal set in the room, as the other man seemed to hear his thoughts instead.

 

Lexa recognized, at least, the protective fondness he had for the other man who glanced over while nodding his agreement before the brunette began to speak again. But this sounded different. The commander thought herself skilled with every tongue, even that of the spiritual. The brunet continued on without acknowledging or even showing he'd seen the commander's widened eyes, probably explained it as awe of the unknown.  
  
“This is a cypher, if you make a small cut that draws blood your running speed is greatly improved for several hours, and your strength and dexterity to lesser degrees.. It wears off during a long rest and cannot be duplicated until the cut heals naturally.. Uh... week or two...probably.  Deeper the cut, greater the bonus, but the longer to heal. It might be tempting to nick a small cut to gain an easy advantage…” and he trailed off, his deep blue eyes crinkling and shifting to the fight as if flipping am mental page. He shortly continued, in a detached sort of way, “but know that doing so cancels out the possibility of a last resort plan for the day or two or after that it takes to heal. Heda Commander, as you know, Many dangers can come and threaten in that short amount of time. ”

 

Lexa stared blankly at the pendant, understanding the warning as not a threat but a push that this was an important thing, and it needs to be taken seriously. This was beyond even the strange magicks of the mountain and skycrew. In the heat of the moment, Lexa was feeling the short years of her life. It was too exciting, too close to the wonderful stories her mother told her before bed… before she was in the conclave, before she was Heda. Now, now she was gifted an item and told it was magical. A lost shaman and his bodyguard or sovereign, or both, came into her tent from lands unknown. THey were not from the sky, they were not from any ground she knew. But they offered little more than believable confusion. Guarded, and gifted with the ability to distract with meaningful and promising distractions. She shouldn’t be so open, but the Commander’s spirit within her swelled at the idea of the otherness that it felt kindred to.

 

The unusually weak voice of caution and suspicion that had kept her alive so long begged caution, but resigned itself to a fight soon over. She held the amulet in her hand, gripping it protectively but careful not to cut herself. Just in case, not just yet. A northern wind blew through the tent, stronger than usual or normal, and freezing her hazy wonderment at the magic in the palm of her hand, drawing her attention to the raven male who leaned forward desperately towards her. His back arched severely before he grabbed the commander's arm, his eyes shifted to amber before rolling back in his head. The blond, Arthur looked alarmed but not surprised as he lept to support the man.

 

Nyko and Ryder were within arm's reach before the grip even registered to Heda Lexa. She shifted in her seat and stilled them with a reassuring nod, one full of excitement and promise within the mask of demanded obedience. They instantly stepped back, but only a few paces so and stared expectantly. Honestly, they were too familiar and protective burly brothers some days.

 

The brunet began to mutter “The men in the mountain took your people”

 

She stared, curious how he knew that, her eye twitched in suspicion, and the two men at her backs slowly drew their swords a hands breathe out of the sheaths. This time, Heda did not still the movement. Another half hands breathe. She still looked forward, acting as if she didn’t realize what they did. Remaining nice and open, it was a good first defence.

 

“They still have your people… took the skykru… they're so much pain…Skykru are in the ground, but the grounders still live...” he shuddered out.

 

She needed to know how accurate that speech. The conversation, she realized, was only beginning.

 

As they rose, Heda rose, along with the other man , clearly just following everyone else. She looked to him and nodded, “I give you gouthru klir” she spoke loudly, looking back to the men and nodding stiffly at her guards. It was loud enough to catch a spark on the vine of gossip. She looked back to the blonde, clearly a leader in some way, wondering if he understood the importance of her gesture even if he didn’t understand the words. The shimmer of gold that shone through the raven's eyes as he muttered into the blonde's ear on the solidified her instincts, instincts that drove her to make quick and strong allies with this pair. They were powerful, and she felt some kinship with them. As if she sense that the fates would always strike firmly. 

 

The blond seemed nod and smile, very pleased with how things were turning out.   
“We are in debt to you and your people, we are very far from home as you know, and we have many steps to take before we rest. There are three sisters, Morgana, and Morgause, and a third... The travel many...ah...lands to overpower.” He took a moment to still himself, and show gratitude and faith before he added,”Your army is great and terrible, I know they will fall to ruin should they face your warriors.” he acknowledged humbly.

 

Heda Lexa looked to him holding her breathe. And let it out slowly..

“Arthur, I do not know of where you come from, or truer what the two of you are.. But i am honest in my word, for now you are under my protection, and I am Heda, Commander of these lands.” She nodded to Indra who nodded at an unseen subject before the silhouette then figure of a younger female, Echo, entered the tent.

 

“She will show you to a residence for the near future. We can discuss things further in the days to come, I have many enemies and allies at my doorstep, and I admit, I’m not sure which meeting I dread most.” She disclosed with a sure but weighted down grin. The others nodded knowingly but almost stunned with her generosity. The blonde caste a suspicious eye to the raven, who shrugged as he shook his head in denial. He'd Lexa wondered if there was suspicion of compulsion. Unnerved at the one’s assumption of its ease, she shook herself back to here and now. This, unfortunately, must wait for another day. Luckily the blonde was quicker to wit.

 

“A map, this is very much appreciated. We will keep to where you have commanded us to go.” He says, without an ounce of contempt, as if he happily followed her commands and she signed her smiled in a tiny show of gratitude. Anyone who understood the image of Heda was crucial to everything, behind her as a person, was deeply intelligent and insightful.

 

“I hope that we can be mutually beneficial to each other. I have much trouble at my doorstep to sweep up, as I know you do yours. Perhaps we can give each other a hand if we welcome the adventure." She bid them off, only imagining what impossible wonders they embraced when they parted so easily with something so...magical.

As the pair leave to their given dwelling, Heda Lexa remembers again the older man of the three, the only other remaining in the room, apart from Nyko. He just seemed to fade into the background. A useful skill. Now though, she looks to the blonde man. It is just them at the table, he seems confused but maybe more so fascinated. Lexa one again remarks to this strange older man who feels so important.

“You are very new here on my land. While you may be strangers to the lands, We are not. These lands have been chaotic. War and subterfuge were ways of life...” Lexa states, centering herself on logic. “You could be a spy, assassin, leader of a coup.” She growls, drawing a dagger from somewhere and she begins to fiddle with it. There was something familiarly frustrating about the stubborn reality of this man.

 

Jake is, all things considered, handling this very well .Or at least that's what he tells himself. He was very ready to die, but he did not. Er go, what an interesting (possibly delusional, product of his brain dying and firing off panicked neutrons as it fizzles out, surely a man in pinstripes with wild hair wasn’t the pilot to the afterlife though..) reality he's found himself in.

 

“Recently I have been able to secure peace and happiness for my people. This will continue as long as possible. I will...myself and my army need to be sure of anything.. Who is your leader?”

 

He shrugs helplessly. “My name is Jake, I'm from, up there" And he pointed upward toward the sky. "I'm not sure about a leader, all I have is my wife Abby and ...”

 

Something froze in the Commander’s veins. The spirit in her heavied, as if knowing things were changing. “...my daugher Clarke…”

 

Lexa felt darkness overcome her as he air froze in her lungs. He was one of the parents who’d sent their children to exile! They had come down, to take the skykru back, to kill them… To take the ground… After all, the skykru were young, ignorant. Fodder perhaps? She needed..

 

“Who else fell with you, Jake Griffin com Skykru?”

 

He stared, confused, before shaking his head. “I’m alone, it's just me.” With this, her protective nature snarled and took over. She barked for guards, and they dragged him off as he sputtered his confusion. Shouts and yells filled her ears, question and jabbing at Jake. Just as her eyesight went out, She saw Jake being dragged out and she could only mutter to Indra. “Lock him up, send out scouts for more Skykru elders. I must.. Go.” And while Indra tried to grab her arm, Heda ran for the nearest horse before jumping into the saddle and riding off towards where she hoped’ Lincoln, Octavia, and Clarke would be heading. She needed to know what was coming for her and the Skykru.

 

End of Flashback….

 

Utterly unknown to the unknown embarrassed Heda, she spoke in her sleep. Clarke watched over her for a few moments, nerves still buzzing. She hoped the reason for their continued privacy wasn't being overheard during.well.. During… But it was unfortunately the most likely reason. She rather hoped her companions wouldn't walk off and forget about her.

 

Though while Heda laid back, eyes shut, she muttered under her breath. Muttered a strange confusing tale of meeting two strange men, and a third. A third who sounded too familiar, too daring to hope was familiar. And then he had a name. An impossible name.

 

Jake Griffin.


	36. That is it, and Nothing More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You got yourself a mechanic.”
> 
>  
> 
> “Welcome home."
> 
>  
> 
> “It doesn't m-matter, b-but my name.. My n-name is C-Costia.”
> 
>  
> 
> “Not now. Now we need to go. Now.”
> 
>  
> 
> I aprecciate the feedback so far, but please continue to drop me a comment! Also comment if you think a scorned 3x07 fan should come back for the new season lol

 

 

 

**It was chaos, timeless chaos. She forgot what it felt like to exist before this moment, and couldn’t think to imagine what might come after. There was only the goal of getting away.**

 

 **Somehow, Raven has the sense to steal a horse by the outside of camp sst hey set off for anywhere but here. There's a knapsack with a few provisions that get them through the night, aided by the adrenalin and terror than ran through them. It was so dark, neither realized they were both covered in that grounders blood and their own wounds.**  
  
Two figures watched their clumsy escape, waving off the guards who first noticed them early on. FOr now, the potential for chaos was too great to ignore. There was too much possibility for the great Commander to fall from this. The blonde prince watched them go, sneering for a moment before he relaxing and looking next to him, not daring to question orders. Queen Narcissus stood next to her son, eyes alight with anticipation and confidence.

 

 **“When I awoke today suddenly nothing happened**  
But in my dreams I slew the dragon  
And down this beaten path  
And up this cobbled lane  
I'm walking in my own footsteps once again.”

 **Waiting For My Real Life To Begin**  


**It wouldn’t go away, that voice that kept reminding her of her hopelessness. Now though, there was also a note of desperation, of fleeing from the inevitable. Something terrible was edging closer.**  
  
Each night felt worse than the night before it, perhaps no time was passing at all. They rode during the day, stopped and basked in the reality if not surreal quietness of this ground, and Abby Griffin looked to a certain spot of horizon in search of Weather.

 

**For Raven, each moment felt eternal, just like each past one on this cursed ground.**

 

**It was so obviously pointless it was exhausting. Each step seemed one more than necessary, and one further into idiocy. Why couldn’t she just stop, just admit defeat and relax before it was all over. Before she just...gave up. She already felt she had, this was either hell or some purgatorial similarity. It was terrible own here, with these savage grounders.. If they could have survived, could the 100 delinquents be somewhere?**

 

**The horse that the young Raven thought to steal offered them some level of comfort as they rode away. Rode anywhere. Abby was convinced that some old base would give them shelter, possibly a way to communicate with the arc… and if the children were still alive, that's where they’d go. Raven nodded along, Abby had a wild look in her eyes that mean her opinion didn't really matter Raven wondered how Abby would react to any sort of comfort at this point,and tried to stay observant and accommodating.**

 

 **Raven had been sleeping at the base of a tree, dropping pretty much as soon as they’d gotten off the equally exhausted horse. The elder Griffin and Raven had gotten as much distance between them and the others as they could, but they all had their own limits.**  
  
For Raven, her own reality was started to seep on, because they had a moment to think without  
  
She tried to bring it up the first night they raced anywhere but where’d they’d been, and then again after...but it was always the same reaction. Abby brushed aside ideas of seeking out other people, she was convinced everyone was the same and they needed to protect themselves, maybe find the military base at Mount Weather to try to communicate with anyone. Maybe they had options, but not here and not with anyone they met. The people were too strong, at best the kids were prisoners of them somewhere. It was likely, given the ground people's comfort and power here. Abby knew they killed easily, made her kill easily. Perhaps it was the only way to communicate.  
  
Raven was still numb, she told herself, hoping it was shock. That she’d feel alive again soon, but she didn’t. She scoffed and rolled her eyes whenever Abby looked away. She was sure there was no one left listening who cared. Sure it would not matter in the end.  
  
As they ate an old rabbit Abby easily caught, she felt nauseous with guilt at what terrible things they'd done. So many killed slowly, for it all to amount to hell on the ground. She felt cold knowing her trust in Abby was idiotic and naive. Raven realized the confidence for what it was, a lie. Doctor Griffin was desperate and insane, not passionately convinced. And Raven understood the surprise on Abby's face when she saw someone alive down here, even as it all went to shit.  
  
It didn't matter... there was no one left to read her story. That was a horrid thought, one that drove her to even worse ones.  
  
What was the point of making it to another sentence if no one would be around to acknowledge it.

  


 

 **Crossing over a border they didn't know existed, they came upon something that looked too similar to the one they’d left. They seemed to be just outside of a camp, they looked the same as the others. The terrible female leader and the savages she commanded. They wore different clothes, but Raven couldn't really remember how far they'd traveled over the past few days.**  
  
Everything looked the same, but that could be the depression. Raven wasn't even hungry anymore, she didn't feel anything. That should be weird, she should be trying to code out and explain each new phenomenon on this ground. But, it was shit. She saw terrible things, with no hope, during their few day cycles with that terrible people. their land was so cold, so they raced south. But it didn't matter, Raven just sighed and existed. Something was brewing with her only companion. While Raven was content to last to the next hour or dawn, the older woman was driven, desperate. Raven was guilty for her role in what the Griffin matriarch did. In those night cycles and day cycles just trying to get away, Raven breathed in the silence as if it was the promise of calm. Abby didn't though, she often sat across or next to the older woman and tried to avoid the eye contact. Because she saw something terrifying in her eyes. Madness perhaps, the same look she saw on the faces of those who'd stared out into the windows at the first sign of trouble, as if to say what did it matter anyway. Nothing's out there, and you can only do the same nothing to me.  
  
It was madness. As if Abby demanded a responses she did not expect, demanded her daughter when she refused to believe in anything anymore. As if her human nature let her somewhere in the arc over their heads. Raven knew she should be concerned, but what did it matter anyway. Likely, Abby would just lead her through this nothingness, and only nothing could happen to her.  
  
She looked across the sparse forest to the campsite on the edge of their vision. The tents, dimly illuminated from the fires outside and the arguing. There was no peace down here, from the arc it seemed like utopia, but it wasn't. There was no happiness, no reason to even bother. She was just hurting more people.  
  
As she undressed for the night, she doffed her belt and stared thoughtfully at the belt buckle. It was dull, but if she tried hard enough.. She stilled the thoughts once more, staring out to watch the stars. Surely if everyone just looked at the stars, things would work out. So finally, after counting as many as she could, she finally fell asleep. The awful thoughts thankfully silenced once more.

  
  


Clarke shook the brunette awake, the endorphins fleeting her system with the anxiety of what Heda said along with the sheer stupidity of doing this, again with the girl who was with the Commander.

 

“Heda, this is not.. Time to go, get up!” she said, roughly shaking the Brunette's arm after a few moments of being gentler. Heda woke instantly and lurched up to a stand, knocking larke back on her ass.

 

“Alright, well good. You're awake then…” she said, rubbing her tender backside as she stood to meet the rapidly breathing still waking up form of an instinct based grounder. Looking ahead to the blonde she calmed her breathed and nodded. “Yes, we need to go. I need to to...Clarke you must tell me of you.. Of your father”

 

It was still a shock, Clarke had convinced herself in the passing moments that she'd imagined or misinterpreted words of the sleeping Heda.

 

“My father...my father is dead.”

 

Hea seemed confused by this, or at least very suspicious. As if now she was certain someone was lying, but she wasn't sure whom.

 

“Clarke.. What was your father's name?”

 

Clarke asked desperately, disbelievingly, there was something fairly certain the HEda’s eyes. She fought against it.

 

“Tell me first why you look at me as if you already know what I will say, why I know Jake Griffin will not surprise you.”

 

But it did. Heda’s eyes widened, and something within Clarke cracked, because that made it real. IT wasn't a mumbled name. Heda knew… But how?

 

“Clarke..he-I mean.. Someone came to the city, he says his name is Jake Grif-”

 

“Absolutely not-" Clarke responded darkly, shutting the remote possibility off as offensive. The air seemed to crack with some unnaturalness. Heda stared openly, cut off as the display tensed the air, Clarke continued. “-It's impossible, my father is dead. I was there.”

 

Heda stared, and her head tilted moments before dual footsteps neared them. Her time was up.

  
“No time...Now we need to return to the city, the people need their commander...I cannot enter with you… It wouldn't..” and Heda trailed off, staring at Clarke. The blonds expression steeled immediately, “Of course...you got what you wanted anyway...again, yeah? I'll meet the commander as soon as we arrive, you should probably be off before someone sees you with me.” Clarke said dismissively, turning her back on Heda to hide the cold feeling of hurt mixed with should have known better from her stance. Heda watched her close down and turn away, and obeyed her gesture of space. Commander Heda Lexa of the Twelve Nations felt a cold, sad, but naive loss fill her utterly as she walked off into the forest cover, back to her duties.


	37. Are You Alright? I'm Right Here.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor: There are fixed points throughout time where things must stay exactly the way they are. This is not one of them. This is an opportunity! Whatever happens here will create its own timeline, it's own reality, a temporal tipping point. The future revolves around you, here, now, so do good!

 

  
  


The night was dark but tense, the normal insect and stirrings of the forest grew silent. About twenty minutes on foot up the path from something else entirely, Octavia tilted her head in confusion. She understood giving someone some privacy, but Lincoln was too tense for that. At her gesturing and expectancy, Lincoln tried to explain to the group the awkward situation he was in. He swore them to secrecy, then revealed what they already knew. Or rather, what Octavia knew but didn’t realize the immensity of. The grounder who’d been in camp with Clarke before was the Commander, Heda Lexa. They’d met her when the cat colony was dropped into their laps, she seemed kind, but ruthless in some sort of weighty duty. Murphy didn't seem surprised by anything anymore and the others thought it was at least fairly obvious. Apparently not to Clarke who didn’t take the news well. The commander was trying to, ah, persuade her.

 

So they needed to give her some space. It was best for all of them, Bellamy nodded rather dumbly, and Murphy rolled his eyes and looked off in the distance, as if it was all pointless and obvious anyway. He rubs away a headache as a vision of Bellamy kicking out a crate underneath someone’s feet rushes through his mind. Still the air became awkward as noises from their backs overcame the distance and muffling foliage. The low but feminine noises signified just how well the meeting was going. Lincoln pretended he heard nothing, Bellamy twitched but started off trying to find the same. Octavia and Murphy looked back nodded along, impressed.

 

The noises continued for a few minutes, before dulling to silence. The other party met each other's gaze with a confused but expectant gesture of, “What now?”

 

The decision was made for them as a figure broke the shroud of the tree covering from the opposite direction of Clarke and the Commander. This was Indra, who seemed frustrated and out of breathe.

“Where is the Commander? SHe needs to return to the delegate-” And a blinding white light illuminates her silhouette before the entire present party is shoved back along the path at several paces each. A deafening noise accompanied it, and everyone found their ears ringing then and for some time after. Now though, the two supernaturally abled of the party felt something terribly off, something more awful than assumption happened at the camp or city they were traveling towards.

 

“Only the broad strokes have been laid down. It’s in the moments between the ticks of the clock where life truly thrives, where we can make a difference.” Doctor Who

 

In those moments just after she faded off, and then the conversation, Heda heda knew she needed to get back. Clarke was so upset, but there was so much work to be done. She needed to get back to the council of dignitaries from the 12 nations. And she needed to figure out the mystery of Jake Griffin. Lexa did not get more than a few paces into the darker shadows that would lead her back to the city, when light in front of her illuminated the way, an unnaturally violent light in the dark cover of night. The force knocked her back a few strides as her heart raced in dread for her people. Within a moment she thought she heard screams, then she was absolutely certain the commander’s spirit was sending their anguish and pain to her directly.

 

Clarke was at her side instantly. “Wh-what was that?”

 

But Heda was already off running, Clarke pushed herself to keep up but found herself always just a few arm's length away from Heda. There was something pushing the tgirl further along, some sense of duty and responsibility. Something began to nag at the edges of her reason, but no was not the time. They came upon the group who’d notably left them some privacy, and also another grounder. But Clarke raced past them, needing to keep this girl in sight, something, something was important. They met and passed the others as they ran towards the chaos. Clarke tried to yell over the wind, calling only to Heda,“What happened?”

 

“It can only be the the mountain!” Heda yelled back reflexively, her mind running through the worst case scenarios of that could have befallen her people. As they ran, at their backs Clarke heard yells of “Commander!” and her heart raced somehow even faster, ready for this other person to descend upon her in the midst of this chaos.

 

They never met up with her.

 

It all happened so slowly in an instant for Octavia and Lincoln, they felt they had an age to look the other and recovery confusion from one, to a sense of be prepared for the worst from the other, before they were off, overtaking the sky princess and the commander, and far surpassing the mated Murphy and Bellamy, the latter of whom seemed to need to encourage more oomph from the former.

 

They all, at their own pace, raced into the terrible massacre that was once TonDC, Clarke couldn't possibly imagine how it could have once been lively.  The air smelled like burning flesh and a dry heat as the flames greedily sought out the dry housing and stored dry good materials. There were so many dead, and so many more whose fight would soon be over. It was awful, the screams. It seemed counties the amount of people in pain. Heda was torn with vengeful anger and concerned heartbreak for her people. Bodies were everywhere, and Heda seemed to be trying to find the center of it all.

 

Each moment hurt the Commander, seeing her people and their home so utterly ravaged. She barked orders to the party that accompanied her back into the town naturally, and they all split off obediently to fulfill the task or mission before returning minutes or so later. They were all accountable and Heda Lexa found most gratified respect towards the skykru form that awful day.

 

She also noticed, perhaps searchingly, that Clarke was the most advantageous in such a dismal situation, there was so much chaos, so many crying for help, and Clarke was at her side dictating common sense that many of her people lost in the terrible chaos. The blonde didn’t once try to draw her away from her people to clarify the chance of a long thought dead father, instead she focused on the reality of people in danger or hurt. There was a golden energy of wrathful justice in those eyes, as if she challenged death as a commander. Distracted, and seeing a lone adolescent. She pulled the boy aside, asking about the cells. Apparently they were completely destroyed, all prisoners assumed dead.

 

No… it couldn’t. Lexa felt newly broken as she realized she may be responsible for the death of Clarke’s father. Heda felt she killed him herself, he could have been lying but he seemed so much like Clarke, the man instantly familiar. She feared this oversight would push the girl away completely. Could he have been telling the truth?

 

She remembered the two otherworldly men he had arrived with , as she sent a guard to check on their housing. She wondered if they were far enough from the blast. The powerful raven haired male seemed insurmountable. If they lived, they would be powerful additions into her revenge.

 

Clarke found herself following on some sort of deeper instinct, but she wasn't entirely sure why everyone else was doing the same.There was a moment, in the eye of the storm, as CLarke looked to her people who followed her into this, Bellamy, Murphy, and Octavia were looking openly to her. Parallel to them, so many more besides Indra and Lincoln were looking to Heda. Not looking for the commander, or referencing her at all, just looking at the brunette, who looked herself heavily weighed down but fierce.

 

“Heda,” Clarke dared to ask, a nagging doubt soaking through her mind, “Where is the commander?”

 

Heda looked back at her, impatient confusion obvious on her face. “Clarke, are you alright?” And she stepped close. “I’m right here.” Her eyes were fierce, desperate for this one thing to be okay. Things might be broken, but Heda Lexa needed this girl to not be so. Assuming the frail blonde girl was in shock, she grabbed Clark's shoulders, shaking her perhaps too roughly.

 

Clarke couldn't even hear the chaos around them, knowing utterly that this wasn't the time for such a mental break. But she felt connections in her mind sputter out and rewire as the obviousness of what was around her…. Se blinked dumbly and fainted promptly.

 

Grabbing her just before her head hits the ground, she yelled for Bellamy to grab the skyprincess from her. Sidestepping him, Murphy reached for her, looking conflicted to Bellamy then to Lincoln, whom both nodded, she handed of the precious cargo. Barking to Indra, “secure the perimeter, worse cases first, start further out, I'll take the capital proper.” Indra nodded and raced off without a backwards glance, grabbing the most able looking and barking orders, soon a network was obviously forming of assessing situations and provide help.

 

Looking back to the skykru, she lowly ordered them to take Clarke to where Merlin and Arthur were housed, they were the closest and most powerful. Waving them off in the same direction she’d sent the boy before, she leaned into the skykru boy carrying CLarke and also Lincoln: “If they ask who she is, tell them she is my once and future only.” They seemed varying degrees of confused and wouldn't question her anyway, before they nodded and set off.

 

Looking now to the last remaining one, Heda Lexa walked forward pulling Ar’in, who’d hung on with her usual otherworldly grace, off the armored shoulders handing her off to Octavia. “Go back to your camp, Octavia.”

 

Browse furring in frustration octavia barked out stubbornly, “I want to help, I can be useful…” And she grinned obviously, her larger canines catching the light of the fires.

 

Heda nodded in satisfaction. “And so you shall, Octavia. Return to your people and tell them the mountain who stole their people struck their post powerful ally. Send physicians to help, and we will remember your kindness and offer you shelter should your lessened numbers...need it.”

 

Octavia nodded, and bowed, the nails of Ar’in digging into her skin and she latched on. Prepared she was, so she did not lose her loft as the creature beneath her turned and raced off, faster than anything she’s seen in her long years in the colony.

 

And so, they ran. Hours passed, Octavia only stopping to give the cat on her shoulders a few minutes to walk and find a tree or puddle to drink out of, plus once or twice they stopped when a mouse or something larger crossed their path. Octavia could be quite insatiable in her bloodlust, now that no one was there to question her besides a tiny beast. With her speed, and distractions, they’d arrive just as dawn broke on the camp. She raced to where Wells and Finn would be holed up, in the makeshift med bay with the smallest and injured cats and people.

 

And in a momentary lapse of decision, or lack of awareness of the reality of the dangers around them, she sent them off into the morning as she looked for more resources, she’d stayed back to rouse up a chain of command and then would meet the two on the way back. She wasn’t much help in full daylight, she knew that much. It was better to send the two most important healers to TonDc. She knew she’d be able to easily make any ground they made in the meantime. So a few hours later, when the sun was low enough to be caught by the heavier tree covering, she set off in the path she’s told them to take.

  
But she did not meet up with them.


	38. They Will Think We're Dying, That It's Not Safe To Follow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Giving the forgotten duo that might have been Wells and Finn their due, I hope you enjoy.

"(Joan of Arc) put her dreams and her sentiment into her aims, where they ought to be. She put her practicality into her practice. In modern Imperial wars, the case is reversed. Our dreams, our aims are always, we insist, quite practical. It is our practice that is dreamy.”   
― G.K. Chesterton, All Things Considered

 

For Finn and Wells, things have been narrowly focused since they’d had the cat colony brought to them from Clarke and the others. Wells always found calmness in law and order, but that was unforgivably controlled on the arc, and completely gone on the ground. He remembers the first few days on the ground, when’d they’d been paranoid but himself at least a tiny bit comforted that others, the adults, would soon follow them down. He remembered how they’d planned a coup they’d yet had a need for. It seemed to be just them, and he was relieved that Clarke quickly trusted himself and Finn. He pleaded with her when he thought they were all going to die on the crash to the ground, and later reinforced his words, his loyalty to Clarke. He, along with everyone else, recognized her as the leader. The grounders sometimes called her the Sky Princess, they seemed right. A chain of command developed, certain people expected to do certain things that they seemed apt at. Wells tried to stay focused on the strategy of the bigger picture. Concepts and theories were his specialty, but he was still scrambling for some sort of assurance. Finn stayed by his side, their bond was strong on the arc, but now, thrown back together, they were inseparable. Wells tries to explain that he just wants to find out where they are, but that answer wouldn’t help anyway without proper context. Finn would hug him tightly and promise that they were alive on the ground, that should be good enough. This mattered.

Especially since Charlotte happened, and then the roles seemed reversed. and he looked off in the direction where they’d buried their dead. Where a little girl, broken by the outside and inside, laid several feet down. Too soon, they were all too late. Finn wasn’t too late in saving him, and he was so grateful they two were given more time on the ground. At the time, seeing both Finn and Charlotte covered in blood, he remembers desperately hoping it was the girls.. That his one assurance of things. Finn was disturbed by what he’d done, and he hated how quickly the others became suspicious, wondered if he was a liability, perhaps even if he was dangerous.

Wells drew Finn even closer to him, and began trying to teach him everything he knew about what he figured would be the most important thing down here. Medicine.

It wasn’t much, but Finn found a few medical books tucked away or forgotten in the dropship. Some last ditch hope for their sustainability, if they managed to land and breathe on the ground maybe, maybe a gift from the gods. Either way, it have them something. Something to make his Finn important. Clarke and OCtavia had medicine from the grounders, he wanted to use and try it immediately on people that needed it… But the woman hesitated, wanting to keep it and wait, cautious. Caution wasn’t the same thing as strategy, and Wells was frustrated. Until the cats came. That changed everything, it made things a bit more worthwhile he thought. He and Finn now had their own sort of people. The entire colony, they were told at the time, was shortly then shatteringly brought to them. Wells wasn’t an expert in animal handling or medicine, but most of the cats needed simple wounds or nourishment. The few wounded were somehow cleanly so, a quick clean and souter on the eye wound of the cow printed cat was all the could manage ebt it gladly healed, a bit slowly… and the tripod break was luckily mended as well. Caring for the animals was something Finn lept wholeheartedly in. He was devoted fiercely to all of them, Wells thought he might care for them above most of the humans in the camp, hopefully excluding Wells. They ended up drafting a room in the dropship, further back but with windows that able cats seemed to be able to enter. Finn always took care to leave a few scraps of food by the window, along with lighter boxes outside, so that smaller creatures could climb up and in if they were nearby. He seemed confident that it would serve more as an alarm as it broke to human heavy things if they tried to break in. Many cats scurried in that way one night, they both felt a bit anxious at the suddenness of the influx, the front doors already closed solid for the night.. One of the smaller boys, Elliot, was just inside, ready for the simple set of knocks required to gain entry from those at the fireside. Bellamy insisted on that measure, while he and Murphy were out on their hunt.

It was sudden, they were almost relaxing in the strange dream/nightmare like land of the ground. It was dark, nighttime…

But something happened. They heard the shorter boy run down the corridor to where they were, grabbing Finn the arm and pulling him off. Setting down the black cat they’d been giving a wellness examination of, Wells followed them out down the hall. Throwing a glance to a boy who’d been helping them out, Elliot, he gestured for him to watch the cats and the windows. Anything could be happening. The Boy seemed always suspicious, and now that comforted well, as he clamored down to door to listen at the exterior doors. Something was happening, r already happened. The raven haired shorter boy stepped aside as the older boys stared at the latch that would release the hatch to the outside. They knew, they knew so many of their friends were outside. But why had precious cargo in here. To Finn, his charges and newfound purpose. To well,s this was home base, the lawful center of their home. It was important to hold and witness. They could get their people back, but he knew home was never so certain. Illogical maybe, but it was in order. So they waited, unwilling to open the door, stilled cold and numb b the silence that occurred throughout the night, and the next day that followed… Time was weird. They had resources, but they threw themselves into the animals, until a knock stilled them all back to reality. Followed by a fateful knock of one of their own that brought a new reality, the next time such a knock came from a Blake sibling.. It would take a bit longer for fate to set in.

After being sent by Octavia to help out Clarke, the young men were confused but obedient. Octavia had seemed so sure of the ‘plan’. Apparently there was some sort of disaster with the grounders. Someone attacked them, something with the power of a bomb. They saw movies in the Arc, and Octavia briefly detailed the casualties and damage to similar levels. Wells wasn’t sure he would matter, but Finn raised an eyebrow while somehow still pouting as he echoed that they were the best offering the skeleton and unsustainable sky crew still left. So they set off into the forest from which Octavia aced from before. Different as she was now, they were modified at she would be able to rejoin them before they met the gates of the city so broken by the Mountain. The strangeness of it seemed familiar to the decimation and capture of most of the fallen by the strange modern invaders. It seems only days had passed since most of their numbers had been taken. Perhaps they’d distracted themselves. The sun, itself, seemed likewise distracted, perhaps fate itself was turning its eye away from the rest of the 100.

But now, in the woods as they began to wonder if they'd been lost.

  
The day seemed to grow shorter, Wells explained seasons again to Finn. Gone were the days of continually regulated day night cycles and standard controlled air. Thinking of it made them both breathe in deeply, the forest around them smelled amazing in comparison. Even with what the approaching chill meant. Shorter days. It seemed only recently since dawn, and the sun was too low in the sky, an unnatural night seemed to chase at the horizon. It concerned the two traveling skykru kids, but they were more worried for the short tale they'd been told by Octavia about some awful thing done by the Mountain they’d once thought their only goal, the purpose they’d been given but never had the time to affirm in the ensuing events of the ground and eventually, that same cursed Mountain. That the two were the same seemed to be the last shred of idealism shorting out in them both.

But that mountain was still a concept to these two as they'd never encountered them, been too lucky before now. While Finn began to wonder if they were lost, unsure of the hours that had actually passed, he was torn from his thoughts by methodical twigs cracking from the tree cover to their left. Suddenly a cannister flew to the ground in front of them and strange smoke came out. Space suits were such a thing was almost a memory in the life that followed on the ground, but here they were. It happened too fast, its familiarity to when Men in Spacewalker suits came for their people. For Finn, it was a literal reminder of the choice he made for a very dear friend. In the blink of an eye his memory of Raven replayed, what a girl she was. They were the closest of friends for a time. Being inclined more towards males eventually, they still found mutual satisfaction and fondness in each others company. He hoped she was doing well, she sometimes got so sad. He fet a wave of pessimism, as if her battle was heavily stacked against her. Perhaps it would get better for her.

Wells and Finn never stood a chance, and fell the the ground in dual heaps.

"Remember, remember, this is now, and now, and now. Live it, feel it, cling to it. I want to become acutely aware of all I’ve taken for granted."   
— Sylvia Plath


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm not sure fairness comes into it. You never know, it might be fun." Gaius. BBC Merlin

“Destinies are troublesome things. You feel trapped? Like your whole life has been planned out for you and you've got no control over anything and sometimes you don't even know if what destiny has decided is really the best thing at all.” Merlin

  
  


Those present were still getting used to their present...environment. All things considered, they were doing quite well. One step for human adaptability, and one leap for the legends of mankind. They were still struggling with the memories of before whatever happened had happened. Knowing only the cliff notes of where they came from and how and why they were here now, they relied on how they felt they should act in the moment. At least, for the moment. So here they were.

 

While Arthur initially eyed their quarters with suspicion and mutterings of a likely cave-in, they set up quite comfortably in the dwelling. It was two secluded rooms which opened and exited outdoors through a larger common area. Washroom things were out back, but they didn’t have need of the facilities at the moment. In one room, in the corner of the simple but well built chamber, a man of myth leaned over a fire rocking back and forth over a cauldron full of stew. 

 

Had anyone other than his companion had seen, they would have remarked on how his eyes seemed to glow golden. And from the world they knew, that was as good as a death sentence. As it were, his companion did notice and growled out a soft warning. “Merlin, you need to be more c-” but he trailed off, lost in a nihilistic thought as a response brought him again out of it as quick as he fell.

 

“I know, I am. But it’s different here, and here is only for now. I will get you home.. Worlds away are less of an issue when you have me, you should know…”

 

In the confusing days they’d spend here getting this far, he never heard Arthur sound so lost. “Merlin..In all my years of tutoring, I’ve never heard of these lands..even across the sea. We aren’t anywhere near Camelot, my people..Where are we?”

 

Merlin’s eyes shimmered as his power spiked, bring the food to a rather enhanced magically and in terms of healing… an item far past uncommon, He growled lowly,  “I don-. We will get home, my Prince.” He stressed, sending out his magic to draw his companion toward him. He could feel the air and magic break over him as he approached, like one of the boulders meeting the soft wave of the lake’s tide. 

 

Arthur welcomed the draw, and took a quick stride to stand just behind him. He lifted his hand to rest on Merlin's shoulder where it met his neck, kneading the muscles under his fingers. Merlin reacted instantly, leaning into the touch and sighing. Just as Arthur relaxed into Merlin’s magic and allure, they were both taken from the moment as the third in the room stirred awake. Squeezing once before letting go and stepping aside, Arthur cleared his throat to announce himself. Merlin felt the loss of the warmth, regretting it and wishing for always another few minutes when they had the chance for such moments. He prepared a bowl of the soup for their patient.

 

**“There are books showing men how to succeed in everything; they are written by men who cannot even succeed in writing books.”** **  
** **― G.K. Chesterton, All Things Considered**

 

Clarke awoke in the dim light of midmorning, but she remembered it being just night time, it was dark out, only fire light the way, she thought foggily to herself. She realised shortly the two met near the fireplace in the room. One huddled over a large bubbling pot, and the other facing her with a manner of formality that Clarke found very… fantastical. Blonde man stood first, but the brunet walked over to her stealing a foot away then waiting for her to rise up. She rubbed her eyes for a few moments and then got up, sighing as her fuzzy brain tried to rationalize the recent memories that were coming back.. She stared at them in confusion, it look to be a grounder room but these men seemed utterly different

 

While they stared at her curiously, but the brunet a bit more warmly, she shrugged and offered her and said, “I am Clarke Griffin, leader of the Skykru.”

 

The two men did seem a bit tired, as if one wished to remain by her bedside and the other to remain always by his companion's side. Clarke was finding it hard to focus, the memories of the night before her were confusing, and lif recently was hardly stable. She was trying to come through what was a dream and what she usually awoke to.

 

As she sits up in bed, whirling her legs around to stand. She takes one cautious step awake from the bed before the blond regal looking man steps into her view extending a hand. He is rathered abruptly pushed aside as a taller but slender man holds a bowl of steaming soup in front of her face. It smells divine to Clarke and she takes it without question, not even searching for a utensil she drinks the entire thing in the span of a few rather undignified slurping noises that the two men pretend not to hear. As she finished, surprised at her hunger but feeling strongly fortified she looks again to the blond man, who offers his hand out once again.

 

“I am Prince Arthur, of Camelot”

 

She barks out a laugh, but raises her arm to grasp at Prince Arthur's forearm. He seems confused but a practiced frozen professional mask takes over anyway, Clarke notices it even in her near delirium. Clarke wobbles, steps back and then sits back down, her mind racing with too many impossible things in such a short amount of time. 

 

Clarke’s eyes widen, wondering how her dream heralded back to such a forgotten legend. She leaned further back to rest on her evelows as she raised a sarcastic eyebrow at the brunet. “So, you would be Merlin then?” 

 

Expecting something other than widened eyes of disbelief, SHe wasn't expecting the higher male voice to ask, innocently.”How did you know my name?”Clarke raises her right hand to massage her temple and she lays back down and closes her eyes. “I think I need to sleep, or I need to wake up.”Clarke closes her eyes and lays back, waiting for the next fairytale to take over. 

 

And moment spass before soft snores filled the bemused but slightly concerned silence. At an undead gesture, Berlin checks her for signs of head injury, but finds none. He rationalizes to Arthur that she is just exhausted and needs rest, and their new host is very protective of her. Grabbing Arthur by the hand and dragging him out, he mutters “Perhaps my lord would continue his massage?” he shawls in a higher submissive voice, leading Arthur to grow and following him out of the spare bedchamber back to where they rested. They took the time to gesture to one of the guards that accompanied the sky princess to watch the door until the Commander or her guard came for her.

 

“I never said he didn't, but destiny and desserts are not the same thing. You played God, Merlin. You set him on a path of your choosing. Tonight might have brought him triumph but who knows what the future holds?” Merlin BBC

 

More hours passed, and had anyone kept measurable schedules it would be easier to describe how many hours had passed with any sort of relevancy but that is not how it seems to be going.

 

Now though, Clarke woke again, feeling strong than she had in days. She remembered a soup, thinking it a dream but seeing an empty bowl at the bedside made more sense. But the room didn't make much sense. Where was she?

Clarke stood confused, and walked over to the far wall that had a look out. Staring out the window over the still yet burning visage of the horizon around her, the stubborn fires that seem fueled by livelihood and lives. now she remembered everything, realized how wrong she'd been about Heda..the Commander, realized how that in itself would have been somehow simpler than being with the commander herself. But now, Clarke couldn't deny that it made sense, it added to her confidence, her she was ..with.. The commander of the other people. That Commander found her an equal of sorts. , but it added to the weight on her shoulders, as if the last flicker of it must be someone else died, faded away.

 

There was muttered words outside her door, and Clark felt a bit electrified, perhaps the air changed. She knew, of course she knew. And Clarke tried to remember every angry, valid reason she had to turn her back on this girl who led an army, she couldn't stop her blood from simmering, the anticipation mad her breath shallow as the door to her chamber was slowly pushed open.

 

Quiet steps.

 

Clarke didn't turn, couldn't move. But she knew.

  
Heda the Commander of the Twelve Nations was here. 


	40. My Name is Lexa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alicia Clark: All these years never knowing where you were or what you were doing. Now here you are.   
> Nick Clark: I was always there. I was just hungry.

“Every day I think of you, and every day I think… Please do not go where I cannot follow.” BBC Class

  
  
  


It didn't feel right to move, to acknowledge the shadow she knew was just behind her. Clarke continued to stare out the window, seeing low burning fires and smelling the awful burning of the suffering that was still being felt. The reasons Clarke had for being upset with Heda now seemed out of place, glaringly unimportant. Clarke felt the loss of almost all of her people, but they had been taken. These people were massacred, possibly even for helping her and her own. She couldn’t turn her back on it, so she stared forward trying to let her remorse and regret for the suffering appear on her face. She began to feel drawn to the other person she knew was in the room, had quietly stepped forward to be standing just behind her. Clarke stepped back and turned her head ever so slightly to rest against the side of Heda’s face, knowing then feeling the warmth and solidness of the Commander standing still allowing Clarke to press herself back against her.

 

Clarke felt a quiet sigh escape the girl behind her, and Clarke could understand. Feeling the girl almost surround her with her strong aura, it should have been as relaxing and comforting in a time like this. After all that has happened. Clarke could still feel a tension in the body at her back, and she turned around to meet the narrowed, tense eyes that held hopeful warmth just below the grief. And Clarke felt awful as she remembered once again that this was the commander’s people who lay dead and hurt around them.

 

“Two hundred and fifty people died in the village, in my village…”

 

“I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry” Clarke spoke lowly, now facing her, not stepping back and they were barely an inch apart at the nose. She lifted a hand to brush back Heda’s stray braids from her face but her hand stilled, unsure if the commander would wand any art of his exterior brushed aside.

 

THe commander saw this instinctively as a way to soothe the spirit. There was a plan here, a possibility. Lexa felt a stirring of a neutral manipulative leadership seep through her bones and nerves. She grabbed Clarke’s hesitant hand and lifted it to her own cheek before lifted her hand to curl behind clarke’s ear, lightly stroking and scratching clarke’s scalp.“It was the Mountain, Clarke, the Mountain cast fire on my stronghold.” Clarke could help but turn into the motion and bite her lip as she tried to focus on what the Heda was saying as the leader of the grounders continued.

 

“Before the Mountain attacked this trike village, they took your people, and before that, they’d taken mine for years. They’ve taken almost everyone from me, and even more from you-” Clarke interrupted, needing to interrupt...this. "Not everyone."

  
Lexa spoke more honestly than she meant to, she needed to keep in the role of Commander, Clarke wasn’t really hers to protect.. She needed to put her people first, it wasn’t a choice. But still she said, "We need to survive."

  
Clarke shook her head, something about the words or tone didn’t make sense. But ahe addressed what she did understand. "Maybe life should be about more than just surviving. Don't we deserve better than that? Can we not dwell instead for a moment on what we have safely in front of us?"  
  


Clarke looks at her as though she expects the sun to rise on Heda’s command, and It hurts to think she might be lying, that this could all end in flames and commanders of war as Heda Lexa stared back at this impossible girl, a word betraying her lips as, "Maybe." Heda cannot suffer that look any longer, capturing Clarke’s lips in a kiss. So warm, Heda could taste the sky just before a dangerous storm. Lexa knew that she would entangle herself as deeply in the thorns of whatever she was encouraging here. Heda could not help the wince of the spirit within her.  
  


Surprisingly, Lexa felt Clarke pull back, and the commander raced to cover her tracks. Could Clarke see right through her? Heda straightened up to meet the blonde with her chin raised in defiance and challenge.  Clarke wanted to ask how Heda knew anything about her people that were taken, the rest of the one hundred. But seeing the expanse of skin offered by Heda’s neck..

 

Her skin was absolutely perfect. A warm, healthy glow with a bit of a heated blush. A strong vein pumping life throughout this vital person. Clarke needed to have at least one bite, wrapping her arms around her torso and latching on to her neck, licking and sucking.

 

Lexa was stunned but relaxed herself forcefully. Her hands raised up to stroke through Clarke's scalp, her fingers catching for a moment on the snags of her unkempt hair. This only pulled more at her scalp and Clarke moaned into her neck at the touch, and bt down just a bit more. Lexa groaned, and rubbed her thighs together trying to relieve the tension. Her fingers seeking more purchase to pull the girl, but not away.

 

Clarke lifted her mouth off the neck of the Commander looking to the closed door while raising an eyebrow. Lexa growled and captured her smirking lips with her own, bring back any noise of amusement until Clarke had forgotten.  Lexa spun around and ground into Clarke, loving how her ass felt against Clarke's hips. She pulled the door open an inch, not moving to hide Clarke at her back. Something within Clarke flared up with heat at the sight of a hallway full of a half dozen guards who could see some proof of their progressing intimacy. She daringly lowered her mouth to the crook of the Commander's neck and bit down, running her tongue in a circle and she twisted her mouth slightly, she could feel the commander growl in her throat. Clarke dared to make eye contact with those closest to the door before closing her eyes to savor the feeling of the delicious taste of Heda. She could feel then, the brunette’s voice husked with power and desire bark out only “No Intruders.” and then slammed the door closed again. The guards outside would never admit to nodding and nudging each other, not jealous of the pair but certainly appreciative. And if they didn't make any further noises instead listening to the nearby actions of anyone engaging in activities, well, they’d go a few dozen cuts before admitting to it.

 

Inside the chamber. Clarke stepped back to allow Heda to turn again to face her. Clarke merely raised her eyebrows. Sure that answered not being walked in on, but there was still a village of strangers who might not appreciate hearing or knowing what they were up to. Heda decided that for just a it, just Clarke existed and she needed to sate this need. Her palms went bravely to cup both of Clarke's breasts through her thinner shirt, her fingers instantly beginning to twist at Clarke's sensitive nipples. She pushed her right knee in between Clarke's legs to push at her core as her mouth returned the same attention that Clarke gave her while she was attempting to address her guards. Clarke though, wasn't as responsive. She quieted  in her noises of pleasure, her groans almost silent but at an effort. Was this a sign she wasn’t enjoying herself? Lexa narrowed her eyes and drew back before smirking, seeing Clarke struggle as her head was turned towards her.

 

“My Skiprisa, I want to hear you...” The Skikru Commander growled against Clarke's ear as she rubbed against Clarke again;. Clarke was enraptured by this being. Even through all the layers she could still feel His strength and curves. Clarke groaned and pushed back into the Heda's hips, feeling so safe. So finally safe here. This moment after it all went to hell, her people could Have been lost….

 

Clarke needed more, she grabbed at the commander and muttered, “...time to get back to the war table don't you agree?" into Heda’s ear, confusing the other girl somewhat as her senses struggled to make sense of her words. There was no war council table here, in her new guests chambers. She pouted, confused until she realized Clarke was guiding her over to the the only table, about six feet long and three feet wide, a solid darker wood, and she felt a hand on her lower back pushing her down a bi-

 

“Oh..mmm” Heda Lexa could only groan out as she realized.

 

Clarke chuckled lowly, and leaned down. “Figured it out yet my Heda, Commander?” She purred in her ear, pushing her down onto the table, Clarke grabbed up the various unimportant documents of the strange men, sweeping them to the floor. “I don't care if that’s the map into the mountain right now..” Lexa allows Clarke to push her neck down slightly into the table, before she feels the palms of her hand at the base of her neck as Clarke's fingers  move up to curl and pull harshly up at her long braided hair at the base of her neck.

 

This was heaven, Lexa thought. Clarke is biting the scruff of her neck, running her own her own command strategy. It was so utterly sexual and dominating that Lexa was breathing heavily with her arousal

 

Clarke kept grinding into Lexus ass, pushing a leg in between Heda’s twitching hips to grind into her. Trying to find friction, more friction. “Need to get closer, Heda.” she growled into the Commander's ear.

 

Trained since a very young age to flip the table, so to speak, Clarke found herself no longer holding down the commander but feeling her escape her clutches as the nimble warrior twisted and shimmed up the table, her shirt in some disarray at this point now half open to show her tense and fit stomach moving with racing breathes. It was only  the second thing betraying her smug invitation as she beckoned Clarke to join her. The other being her fingers unclasping the latch on her belted and armored leggings.

Clarke crawled up to join her and kissed her head running down to push aside he straps of the Commanders undershirt. “Heda, you taste amazing..I need...”

Heda grabbed Clarke's face for a moment and Clarke paused, her pupils blown with desire but trying to focus on the moment that this turned strangely serious.

  
“Clarke... My name is Lexa.”


	41. At Least Someone is Having a Good Day I Guess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "In the end what are we any of us looking for? We're looking for someone who is looking for us."
> 
> Doctor Who  
> AN: That new episode!! Back on the fandom train! Toot Toot
> 
> AN2: Gonna be earning that rating this chapter...Fair warning/promise ;)

**Finn felt deseration, that he would do anything to break out of the chains but he couldn’t think of anything. It seemed only a few minutes passed, though it must have been longer. He was just being supportive, and thought it be a bit of a game, running off to play medic to a besieged village. But they didn’t even get that far before it all just went to shit and darkness..He wished desperately that he was back in his bed with wells, or just going over their own sick cats who needed them. Because here, here was awful…**

  
  
  


**Far away, and even further based on their safety level, Heda was staring into the eyes on something she wanted very much. Now that Clarke really understood who she was and they were here, in her land.. She needed to hear her name on Clarke’s lips...She felt the now uncomfortable straps of her shirt pulled to the sides, she shimmied out of her pants and a tone foot kicked them off, landing somewhere on the floor. Her stomach tensed as she pulled up into a smooth crunch to fully pull off her strapped shirt and laid back, feeling the cool air brush over her skin.**

 

**Still very dressed, Clarke found herself with the vision of Heda Lexa splayed out. SHe recalled that first time they were together, when she believed Heda to be just another strange new person they found in this new life. SHe remembered this stare, so heated that it made Clarke feel as if she was a cornered animal. She knew then, just as she did not, that this would always be inevitable between them. Before, Heda had masked the deep, drowning prowess in her face. Seeing it now, feeling it stretch on through the moments as the commander laid before her once more. Clarke was right, to suspect there was more to this strange girl who’d shared her bed. Clarke stared back, hungry to know more, to see this creature undone.**

 

**Now the look in Heda Lexa’s eyes was more than just mischief and aroused heat of the moment lust… Now there was a deeper hunger, one that had time to settle and ache, one that had kept her up many a night seeking out that same pleasure with her hands alone.**

**Lexa felt the breeze cut off as clarke wrapped her arms and legs around the cool flesh of the brunette, wrapped in a tight embrace Heda felt one hand on her neck and the other at her hip, running firm circles with her nails around the sensitive muscles around her waist.**

 

**Clarke began kissing a path downward, her right hand moving from Lexa’s hip to teasing a circle around the growing heat that felt that it could burn her at any moment. The Commander was not just a person, she was a force, a strong spirit that led so many. And now, she was here, just for her. Clarke was doing this, and finally she put her hands on the inside of Lexa thighs, pulling them apart as Clarke settled down on the table top, and she licked her lips once while looking directly into Lexa’s desperate eyes. Clarke looked down and lowered her mouth to taste her Commander.**

 

**It was amazing, sweet, and Clarke moaned, leaning into the heat and her tongue reached as deep as she could upward, to taste more.. The brunette moaned loudly from the first contact, her voice much lower than usual, and through a clenched jaw, “I might never let you go, Clarke com skykru.” Clarke chuckled in response, the humming vibration causing Lexa to arch up into her, seeking more. Clarke raised a hand to Lexas mouth, inserting it to get it wet, Lexa obliged and Clarke brought that hand briefly to her mouth then to between Lexa’s legs.**

 

**She inserted a finger, then two, she pulled her head back and up to look at the Heda, making sure that everything was okay. Lexa was staring down, eyes blown black. Clarke felt a hand at the back of her head pushing her back down and she chuckled again, glad the other girl was as eager as she. She sucked, bit and moaned into the taste that was Lexa.**

 

**Lexa was trying to meditate to stave off her own climax. It was taking everything she had not to come undone the moment Clarke’s fingers curled up and she felt CLarke’s teeth bite down gently on her clit. But she was determined, she never came before her partners. This would not do.**

 

**She pulled Clarke up to the same level, and before clarke could make a noise other than a curious then surprised moan, lexa captured clark's mouth, tasting herself on clark's tongue. Her eyes narrowed in determination and challenge as her hands ripped the worn fabric of clarke's trousers away from her. Not caring to remove the cloth fully she tore any fabric in the way, her nails and fine muscle skills easily shredding the material in a odd bit of othernatural strength. Then, finally her fingers were able to find out how wet clarke was for her. Her fingers were soaked before she even felt Clarke properly. She let out a possessive growl as she bit down Clarke’s sensitive neck. Her fingers reached up, entering clarke roughly. Her thumb began to rub in circles roughly against Clarke’s clit.**

 

**Clarke arched her hips grinding down into heda’s hand as she tried to bring her hand down searchingly to reciprocate. Lexa rolled her hips up to met Clarke's hand and within a few movements they were fingering each other as deeply and roughly as they could. Not holding back, the day was too long, the nights before it even longer. It was a heady thought to consider this was all they had, and they raced to bring out pleasure from the other, to bring out proof.**

 

**The guards outside looked to each other knowingly as the moans increased, hundreds of the people around could hear their cries.**

 

**Clarke came down from her high to the sounds of whoops and cheers, too loud to sound rela. OUtside the cheers and praises of Heda whistled out, praising their commanders  prowess. Clarke turned to Lexa questioningly but Lexa just breathed heavily, the hand that had just brought Clarke pleasure now was teasing at Lexa mouth as she licked up the taste. Clarke could see a proud smirk pulling at her dazed expression.**

 

**“My people worship power and prowess, a commander's pleasure and ability to please herbet partners is a sign of strength as well.” She leaned up to capture Clarke’s mouth once again, to further prove the point.**

  
  


**“I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed — or worse, expelled.”**   
  


 

**Harry woke from a strange dream, hearing a memory of strange words. Now though, he could only hear a low snobbish chuckle as he startled to awareness with a large cat on his lap. That itself wasn't unusual, but he didn't think he had seen this one before. A long hair, nearl orange colored giant oat of a cat, definitely the largest he;d seen. He felt called, felt more awake than he had since.. well , he didn’t get into it, but his memory felt strange, and now he could hear something, felt something calling him. He got up,settling the cat at his feet and grabbed for a nearby jacket that was a size or two too large. Grabbing a few rations by the door, a snack pack in a go bag, he grabbed the entire container thanking Wells foresight, and walked out the door leaving Elliot behind in the drop ship. He knew only that he was heading northing, searching for something he could never really focus on when he was awake, but it felt familiar to his dreams.**

 

**“Books! And cleverness! There are more important things — friendship and bravery, and…”**

  
  
  


**  
Out of the radiation suits, these people were cruel, clinical, and paranoid. Finn wished he paid more attention to the effect of radiation awareness classes that were offered on the arc, or read any of the numerous pamphlets, because these men doctors seemed perfect textbook examples of his faded memories. On what to look out for in radiation induced dissociations. Or maybe they were just more evil found on the ground. Perhaps their shields were fading it would explain their desperation and coldness in dealing with the captured sky kids.**

****  
These people wanted answered, wanted to know what laid in their blood. It was a cold uncaring stone or dimmed steel walls that circled the room, their beds in the center with a couch where the doctors and nurses turn turns resting on. It seemed they warranted around the clock observation, even though it barely been longer than a day, he thought. It was hard to tell, the chemicals they dosed him with left him in and out of consciousness. Well,s wells never awake. Had not since they'd been brought in. Finn was past the too short lived euphoria of being where their people had been taken before, these men all but confirmed that these people were likely no more.  
  
  
Finn almost hoped that the others were dead, not victims undergoing months of torture. He thought of Monty, Miller, and Jasper… Did they spend their last moments in these same begs, being probed and experimented on. Maybe they were just off living happily somewhere else, maybe they were accepted somehow. But he hadn’t seen any sign to hold hope, or anyone to rescue. Other than he and Wells Jaha. Unfortunately he had no way of communicating this to CLarke or any of the others, and unfortunately, inconceivably, it wasn't his biggest problem. Finn layed bound to a hospital bed, desperately pulling against his bonds to look at wells who was blissful still unconscious. Finn dared not make a noise, somehow hoping Wells would stay unaware. The immediate threat was the large needle one of the doctors had just lifted from the tray next to Will's bedside. Something awful and irreparable would happen and he naively hoped Wells would sleep through the worst of it.

**  
The rustling of the attendants, forcing well’s eyelid open made Finn’s heart sink further. Wells would never stay under through the bright light of their “examination” room, and the pain.**

 

 **Very quickly after the light hit his eye, Wells’ other eye cracked open. As he looked around confused, still woozy from being on strong sedatives and being unconscious. he stared in confusion, then  dawning horror as he jerked his head around finding Finn easily just a bed over.**  
  
Wells looked back to the doctors and screamed “No, please! Let me go!” But the doctor pretended not to hear, saying in detached awe, “This will save our people, thank you.” She began to lower the large gauge needle towards his left eye. Wells screamed, and heard another voice as distressed as his and he locked eyes with Finn, who couldn’t hold in his desperate rage as he watched the doctor lean over Wells face. At the least, he couldn't bear to look away and leave Wells to handle this alone.  
  
Wells tried to twist away, tried to keep staring at Finn, just a bit longer. He shut his eye firmly against the approaching object. The needle came down slowly, over the dark eyelid covering his left eye. Wells Jaha didn’t even try to hold in his screams of agony as he felt the ned ripping through his eyelid deep into his eye.

  
  
  
  



	42. Please, Stay Strong, We Fight Together.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have left this story in the wake of my angst at so many storylines of queer characters in mainstream being forgotten. I figured no one cared. Then I saw how much time had passed since I updated and I had hope that perhaps, more might want to see. If you are there, let me know. These days are so dark in the states, nice to know awesome people exist! :D
> 
> Title is translation of a particular line in this chapter, should be fairly clear ;)

The calm dreamless state that Clarke was in, feeling months stretch across hours, was throttled by a agonizing bolt of lightning. Her subconscious was open to the The disturbance to one of clarke's people, responsibility for her fallen hundred scorching through her nerves. From a deep, restful sleep the nightmare of Wells played across Clarke’s mind on seconds of a delay. She found herself mouthing then shouting along the world of her people in torment.

 

Heda at her back woke early on, clutching the girl to her chest, she didn't understand what was happening, or if it was a night terror or... a vision of past or future.  The commander felt a similar sense of doom, but it was different. Related to the girl in her arms but in a darkened way. As if a part of her heart from the past was blocked by evil or desperation. Lexa did not hope to understand, did not want to force time, but she furrowed her eyebrows as she breathed in Clarke once more. She knew hell may come, but she would burn the world for this girl. And she shook that thought away, that  impossible thought. Her people must come first. And though she wanted this girl here's, her lover was the princess of the skykru. And right now the girl was shouting horrible pleas which she would have no rational reference for. The door to her chambers was opened by the only one who would survive the intrusion, Indra. It took only a shake of a head from her Commander before the general shut the door once more, not seeing their Commander coddle the scanprisa back into her arms and rocking them back and forth while making soothing noises. Indra and the guards knew the consequences of battle well, and it only added to their respect that this leader suffered for her decisions and people.

 

Inside the room, the blonde froze and remained still before muttering the names of two of her fellow sky kru. Yelled that the mountain had them.. And blood began to race through Heda Lexa’s veins… She had been omitting so much from Clarke, unsure if the girl knew how many of her people were... or if she was just hiding the hurt. Between Clarke’s adrenalin rush and the rocking motion from the girl at her back, the blonde found herself thrown into present consciousness, her dreams instantly forgotten.

 

Lexa looked...concerned and helpless, but full of so much… Clarke blinked it awake, it was too dangerous a thing to see. After a few rushed heartbeats she opened her eyes once again and the emotions were more subdued but still, so wide eyed and vulnerable. Meeting the concerned green eyes of Lexa. “What...what;s wrong?”

 

Shaking her head again, the brunette began to curse the ground around her. She should tell Clarke of what she knew to be almost a certainty with Clarke’s people, but she found that voice quiet and weak. She had a beautiful and strong girl in her arms, and there was nothing to be done about battle strategy now. Now, it was just… “Shh, skai prisa…  It is nothing skai kwin, Nothing that can not be solved at dawn. We have a lifetime until then..Rest.”

 

Clarke felt the heart and the worlds and closed her eyes to lean forward to nuzzle her cheek against Lexa. The brunette stilled before returning the gesture and pulling the girl to curl into her side, into her arms again.

 

In moments of peace stolen from the eye of fate, The Commander whispered, “Beja...ste yuj, Oso through daun ogeda. ”

  


  
“When I awoke today suddenly nothing happened  
But in my dreams I slew the dragon  
And down this beaten path  
And up this cobbled lane  
I'm walking in my own footsteps once again.”  
  
Waiting For My Real Life To Begin

 

  
Something terrible was edging still closer.  


As before, Abby Griffin looked to a certain spot of horizon in search of Weather. Abby was convinced that some old mountain base would give them shelter, possibly a way to communicate with the arc… and if the children were still alive, that's where they’d go.

 

Why couldn’t she just stop, just admit defeat and relax before it was all over. Before she just...gave up. Raven already felt she had, this was either hell or some purgatorial similarity. It was terrible own here, with these savage grounders.. If they could have survived, could the 100 delinquents be somewhere? Unlikely. Wouldn’t do to keep herself awake and stressed by hope anyway, she would need that long rest for the day ahead.  
  
Raven was awakened by a sharp shake. Her eyes opened to see Abby and impossibly, the same Queen, Prince and army they’d fled from. Everyone was holding a weapon. Abby pulled her up and rambled a plan. They needed to go into this camp and draw the people out into the woods. Raven tried to stall for time, time to think this out. But these still strange people wouldn't’ give her time to think. And Abby seemed too far gone to question anything. Abby seemed to think these people were holding her daughter, the leader told her that she would be able to draw them out with promises of secrets. 

Raven still wasn't sure who the sky crew were supposed to be. But it was all happening so fast. Abby drag her into the circle of tents, and people came out almost concerned. It was madness. As if Abby demanded a responses she did not expect, demanded her daughter when she refused to believe in anything anymore. As if her human nature let her somewhere in the arc over their heads. Raven knew she should be concerned, but what did it matter anyway. Likely, Abby would just lead her through this nothingness, and only nothing could happen to her.

  
They seemed so trusting but Raven was so numb, the other leader just said she wanted to talk to them.. So she let Abby promise strange things, leading a few elders and the courious children of the villiage into the woods a short way, Raven could only hear snippets and “Mountain”, and “sky crew”.

Raven was largely ignored for some time after that, it was quiet… Her senses were almost calming, perhaps Abby knew something… But them the screams started.

 

And a brilliant flash of pain at the back of her skull sent her into darkness. And the darkness passed and turned into day.

 

She was awoken by a firm hand on her shoulder, Somehow she felt her back leaning against a tree. Her eyes opened to see an unfortunately familiar face. The son of the ice queen, but she couldn't remember if she was ever given his name.

 

But he seemed alone, and he seemed determined. Raven took in his blonde hair and silver eyes, an arrogance about him that she suspected would last lifetimes. But he spoke, “Tell me...is there an orphan with hair as dark as yours, but...stranger?”

 

Raven just stared back, confusion winning over alarm and hear. This didn't make any sense why was he alone where were his guards?

 

The blond did not still or calm down, a desperation in his eyes, some sort of dawning realization that Raven didn't understand. He shook his head again and continued on. “I've seen a face in my dreams, he said he would be above, for a time. He’s the only one who can… His is mine. You came from the sky, from above.” The Ice Prince continued, “Did he come with you, is Harry here?”


	43. Tragedy in his Heart and Comedy in his Head.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oye boy, how ya doin?
> 
> Hello again old friends, it's hard to find a new fanfic lately... I confess to being far, far behind on our canon here... I try to stay updated on the core events and twists though I welcome comments of summaries of what I've missed since the Titus shot heard round the fandom. Hope ya like this strange existential chapter. 
> 
>  
> 
> Be excellent to each other, always. Go donate a dollar to a good cause.

 

 

It was dark, there were no windows here.  The room had rubble in the corners, debris from the world before it, and some trash from recent use. Off to the far wall there was a makeshift cell.

 

A slender young man stirred in that cage, feeling the stale air around him. It made him shiver even though he consciously didn’t feel the need to be warm, nor the hope that there was warmth left to hope for. There weren’t days or nights in his cage, just dimly lit distance interrupted by bouts of blood draws that sapped all of his energy and left him nauseous. There were quiet conversations around him, mostly he didn't understand. He never bothered, he was never the one depended on for spearheading strategy.

 

Bellamy was the brains of their duo, but he feared Bellamy was already undergoing the same experiments that Octavia and that grounder Lincoln had. He hadn’t seen him since they’d been taken.

 

He tried to still himself, it felt like he'd been here an eternity. _Perhaps he had._

 

He felt out of time. But slowly, almost too slowly to notice until it was just there, he felt the edges of reality blend in a familiar way. He had a sense, a feeling of being observed. He felt it weighing him down with a question. It didn’t last, a man could die from patience. This bigger picture bullshit was honestly just exhausting and Murphy was tired. As he blinked, his eyelids tightened closed. He understood the choice and he willed his eyes open, and met the eye of fate through the bars of his latest cell.

 

He saw its question, pity somehow open in its gesture and he nodded weakly. He’d been hoping, waiting.

 

Darkness.

 

He was once again in a bed that seems ages ago...especially because he was next to Bellamy, but perhaps wasn't that long ago, by the drop ship. Opening his eyes fully, he shifted back into familiar arms impossible outside of a dream. Instead of the thread of fate, he just savored the moment, whatever hallucination brought him here. He remembered at this point in the night being somewhere between round two and three. Murphy turned and began tracing a trail of kisses with a bite at the end down the bare chest of Bellamy Blake.

 

This time, Bellamy twitched into something closer to wakefulness. Within his own awareness, he felt something like deja vu.

 

“John, what's going on” Bellamy grumbled out, twisting his neck into the mattress behind his head as he tried to focus through the feeling of a warm mouth moving down his stomach. He felt as if he was waking from a long deep sleep into another dream. But, a deeply enjoyable one.

 

Murphy  barely paused, but began to use more teeth as he tasted the fit male, he hoped he would remember this dream. It would help, when he woke up again. He was confused, as he realized Bellamy’s words weren’t from the script of before. Begrudgingly, he stopped and looked up through hooded eyes.  “What do you mean, Bell..The camp is just outside...”

 

Bellamy shook his head, as if his mind was trying to fight through the fuzzy and pleasurable sensations, he was happy to be given a moment to think when Murphy stopped. It came back to him, then. His eyes opened fully as he sat up, pushing Murphy back slightly but gripping his forearms in his hands. “We are in a tent in TonDC. It smelled like burning and there was smoke. This is… something else...”

 

At this Murphy laughed pityingly, his relaxed face just barely taking the edge of the melancholy tone in his voice. He raised his hands to cross rest over Bellamy’s. He dared to lean in for a quick but deep kiss, savoring the memory, before leaning back and saying, “Then. You are, but I’m from a bit further down the road. I was wondering where you were..are, or I suppose, will be.”

 

Bellamy gripped the arms of Murphy, his fingers dug in as he instincts screamed at him. “Murphy, what’s happening...what’s…” and he trailed off, the room around him beginning to fade to black, he tried to repeat his question before the deafening dissolution of the dream took over. But he knew Murphy said, “There’s not much time left, find Me…”

 

Darkness

 

It was fair to say, things were not going well, even relatively speaking, at the ruins of Tondc. Bellamy was jarred awake by the complaining of the man in his arms. Murphy hit him, enough to bruise, loudly complaining that it felt like Bellamy was trying to suffocate him. He couldn't explain it, Bellamy just had a sense of dread. In the minutes after, it proved contagious and Murphy made no argument against Bellamy's plans to return to the drop ship immediately. 

 

The journey backpassed uneventfully, Bellamy didn't want to involve any grounders just yet. Either by distrust or awareness that they had their own mass situation to deal with. There was a tension that seemed to grow the closer they got. It was strange, there wasn’t a sense of hurry, more of dread. They didn’t return with hope of finding their friends safe, they returned knowing the opposite was true. That their friends, their people, were already captured by the mountain. Bellamy and Murphy had seen the mercy of the mountain in the bombing, and it left Murphy nihilistic about their odds. Seeing the stubborn determination in Bellamy’s eyes, he knew he would follow the other man into death or a cage on his orders. Bellamy was determinted to start planning the rescue of their people from the mountain and make sure that they don't come for them in the future again. And so, Murphy followed.

 

The camp as it came into view wasn’t comforting. There wasn't the same sort of disaster and suffering that was still burning the air at the camp they left behind. Where only a few weeks ago it had been teaming with freed delinquent on a free pass to the universe. Now it was just a memory, like they were just floated away and forgotten. Bellamy knew he had to bring his people home to safety.

 

Or die trying.  
  


They didn’t hear the twigs snap a few dozen yards away, too focused on what was and might never be again.


End file.
